


Butterfly

by Townycod13



Category: South Park
Genre: AU setting, Genderfluid Kenny, M/M, i wanted to write a love square, im not sorry, kyley-b - Freeform, psychic kyle, shit got wild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:54:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 100,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: A whacky adventure about super heroes and complicated teenagers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic beta'd by Panaceaa<3<3! Please spend the time to read some of her fabulous fics<3 she's utterly amazing!

                                                  

_The Illusion of Choice_

It was a difficult choice to make.

The papers sat innocently on the counter, Kenny wasn't sure he understood everything splayed on the legal looking documents but it didn't seem as though the man in a suit would wait for him to puzzle it all together.

“And you’ll send money to my family?”

A solemn nod from the stoic man. What did he expect? The man hadn't been phased by anything in the short time he'd sat within the shit-hole Kenny called home.

 _Had_ called home.

Kenny prayed nothing had been lost in translation. How proficient was this guy in English? He didn’t know. Couldn't know. Barely a word had been spoken. Just documents, a thick accent, and potentially empty promises.

The paperwork did most of the talking. Entailing an extensive list of responsibilities and benefits. An _unbelievable opportunity to expand his horizons_ and even help his family along the way.

Still.

He hesitated, fingers hardly feeling the obnoxiously expensive looking pen he'd been handed. Sentences like _monsters from the deep_ and _fight to death_ stood out glaringly on the page. It wouldn’t be the first, nor the last time, he’d wind up dying for the greater good or something shitty like that _but_ he didn’t really enjoy the thought of being ripped limb from limb by demons and monsters alike.

“And it’s only for three years?”

Again, a nod. Kenny bit his bottom lip in consideration.

It wasn’t really a choice.

In his heart he knew. That didn't stop the feeling of autonomy ripped away from him to feel heartbreaking.

He thought about the rest of his summer break. The hours he was planning to work at City Wok, the things had wanted to do, the plans for his triumphant entrance into Junior High at the end...

And he thought about the paper before him,.

Somewhere in his heart it felt like a deep and gaping hole. Bottomless and expansive. Another way control over his own life was torn to shreds like so many slabs of flesh.

Helpless.

He wanted to throw the pen in the man’s face. Tell them to find a different _chosen one_ and get the fuck out of his house.

That wasn’t really an option though.

His parents stood at the edge of the room, allowing him the illusion of a free choice while they licked their metaphorical chops at the prospect of being able to more or less sell off their youngest son for the span of the contract.

He tugged at the drawstring to his parka. For a blissful moment it hid the world at the edge of his vision. For a moment he was hidden and blind for all the things wrong.

"Well?" the thick accent didn't help matters.

Kenny lifted the pen shakily. The world was sharp again.

So sharp it could cut him.

He signed the contract. Large letters sloppily standing out against the neat contract.

“You made the right choice.”

_The Illusion of Safety_

The bustling sounds of a city should have been all that could be heard in the child’s bedroom. They should have been, but he knew that today his rest would once again be disrupted by the fictional.

Something tipped at the edge of his senses but he remained completely still on his bed, eyes affixed to the stain on his roof. It was in the vaguest shape of a kite and he took some comfort in that, memories of days spent flying them with his brother easing the tension inside. Another shuffle to his left, just out of the corner of his eye but he glared ahead.

There is no such thing. He reassured himself, fist clenching his blankets securely into place. He wasn’t hearing anything and he didn’t _see_ anything.

His senses were lying to him, he knew, but it made him all the angrier. He eased his breathing forcefully and shut his eyes. Allowed his senses to reach out.

Four of them. They didn’t exist. They weren’t real. They were whispering and cackling. He could _feel_ their smug emotions.

They thought they’d found a real schmuck, didn’t they?

They’re not real.

Didn’t matter.

He reached within. Finding an emotion, a thought, a sensation, and the color. Slowly, he expanded the sense from his body.

In his mind’s eye he could see the creatures repelled by it. At first, like an inconsequential bubble brushing against them.

He pushed another one from within, and another, they squirmed and struggled against the force but with each new bubble found themselves pushed further and further away from their intended victim. He didn’t stop.

This wasn’t healthy. He was imagining beasts and spectres at the corner of his senses and imagining his own ability to fight them off with his mind.

How stupid. How ridiculous. He was too old to be playing these sorts of stupid games.

 _You’ll regret this_. A hiss touched the air, a poisonous sound from a poisonous monstronity. Kyle snarled and expanded himself further.

It was strange.

He knew it was all in his head.

But when he sent out imaginary bubbles of energy like this it really felt like he could feel his surroundings. See what couldn’t be seen and who was hidden. He could feel his brother asleep in the next room, eyebrows nit with an unpleasant dream, his mother still awake in her room with a book and her reading glasses.

It was vivid. It felt real.

He knew it was wrong. If he could really do things like this he would be _psychic_ and that was just dumb. There was no such things as psychics.

A wraith of venom seared through a bubble, he felt it burn in his center, but he redoubled his efforts. Within his reach was the entirety of their tiny New Jersey apartment. Nothing was getting in.

He opened his eyes and looked at the kite-shaped stain, trying to focus on reality again.

He wasn’t psychic. That was dumb. There was no such thing.

The lights in his room flickered with a pulsating energy and he closed his eyes to black it out, ducking his head under his blanket.

Under the blanket his overactive imagination couldn’t get him.

_Goodbyes are hard_

The brisk Colorado air felt a touch too chilly. Kenny ignored it.

He wished someone had cried. Sure it might have made it harder but it would have also been comforting. He didn’t have many friends, at least not any real close ones, but he’d grown up in South Park. He felt as though someone ought to miss him.

No such luck.

He had a week to pack his minimal belongings and move to the other side of the planet.

One week and he only needed five minutes to slam some nudey mags and spare pairs of underwear into a duffel bag.

_“Good for you, Dennis! You can practice your Chinese!”_

_Kenny smiled weakly at his long time boss, “I’m moving to Japan, Mr. Kim.”_

One week to prepare for letting go of his life to get on a plane.

_“I’m so proud of my baby!” His mother coddled him close and he felt some of her apprehension at the nondecision. That perhaps she would miss him a little, “Make sure you write.”_

_Karen tugged his sleeve, smiling sheepishly with a picture she’d drawn for him. An orange blob on an airplane._

_Kevin ruffled his hair, more of a noogie than a comforting gesture, “Don’t forget us.”_

_His father took another swig, “It’s only three years.”_

One week and he’d really tried to prepare himself. Even if no one cried and he didn’t own a thing. Even if the prospect of moving to a country where he didn’t speak the language was a terror in itself. He stepped through the security line half hoping they’d tell him he couldn’t fly and he’d have to go home.

_“Oh, that’s cool. Have fun.” Stan didn’t look at all that shaken by the information, eyes still focused on the video game they were both participating in. Kenny knew his timing could have been better but he’d always considered Stan one of his closest friends._

_He let his character die, fingers suddenly too weak to really try, “I will.” he replied weakly._

_Cartman’s voice picked up over the connection, “Bring me back snacks.”_

_“Sure.”_

_That was all either of them said about it._

“Flight 710 for Narita airport is now boarding.”

Kenny stood up from the uncomfortable waiting chairs. This was him. This was goodbye to Colorado for who knows how long.

The airport was too big and he felt too small, adults milled about impatiently with ridiculous looking neck pillows and a flight attendant stared at them all with dead eyes.

The world was full with people, speaking languages he didn't know, and he was about to go to a place where he would be completely alone.

There wasn't a single familiar face in the lines of people readying to board.

There hadn't been a familiar face since he'd been picked up by the embassy car.

No one here to see him off.

That was okay. He was used to handling things himself. This would be no different. He could handle this like he he did everything else.

He wished someone had cried.

_Goodbyes are pointless_

There are only so many ways a fight can go down. Contrary to the belief of Hollywood production's everywhere, very few of them are flowing or smooth.

There's blood. There's falling. There's a loss of dignity and a destruction of sense. There are only so many ways they can go down but a significant portion of that is messy.

Kyley-B didn't have a preference for the sort of fight, he definitely didn't start them most of the time, he preferred fights that ended quickly and in his favor.

That was a number that had risen significantly of late but the most important thing to understand about fights was no one won all the time.

It was probably for the best that he was moving soon. This particular battle was an embarrassment. It was pathetic.

It was probably more accurate to say he experienced such an embarrassing loss because he was moving.

So much to take in within a short span of time. New Jersey was the only home he’d ever known and he was on the top of the food chain here.

What did he care about South Park? Who cares if it was his old man’s hometown? He’d never met the guy!

What on earth was his mom thinking? How was the ‘open air of the country’ supposed to benefit him in any way? Someday she _wanted_ him to get into an ivy league school! There were plenty of great schools within driving distance of their apartment!

Going to some no-name school in the middle of nowhere to live out the rest of his middle school days was a waste of his time. It was a waste of Ike’s time.

Kyley spit out blood and what he hoped wasn’t a tooth before looking up to the sky, empty and expansive.

He should go home. Wash away the shame and greet his mom.

He should get his shit together and stop engaging in these dumb fights. Pretty soon his luck would run out, something would end up on his permanent record or even juvy time, and then he could say goodbye to the future his mother wanted for him.

A surprisingly cold wind brushed against his busted lip. What a sight he must be, huh? Swept off to the side like garbage.

Could make a guy start to feel like garbage.

“...What am I doing?”

Maybe he should clean up his act when he moved. Maybe he should make new friends that had no idea who he was and he behaved? Clean up his act, become a model student, and wave goodbye to afternoons like this.

Which would be a good thing.

The clouds overhead offered no answers to the questions he felt himself wanting the answers to.

He shouldn’t have gotten into this fight and he shouldn’t have lost it.

But the sky is an expansive and expressionless reflection of his inner turmoil, clouds drifting overhead while the sun peeks through here and there, doing nothing for the brisk chill. It covers the whole of the world, out in the mountains it would be the same sky, just different people.

He was ultimately one of many people under the sky. He was ultimately completely alone, with only his own shoulders to rely on.

And there was not a single person in all of New Jersey he felt a need to say goodbye to.

The knowledge hurt him more than the punches had.

_New Places_

It was supposed to be an international school.

On the brochure it _claimed_ to be an international school. Kenny knew. It had been his only goddamn reading material the entire fourteen hour flight. He could recite the thing forwards and backwards at this point.

The paperwork he’d been given claimed he was going to an international English school. That he wouldn’t even need to bother learning Japanese, he would barely even need to use it.

The brochure and the paperwork were both lying-liars who lie. Kenny smiled nervously at the classmates that stared at him as though he was some sort of circus attraction. He was the only blond here and it was beginning to dawn on him that something seemingly ridiculous might be a sticking point with his new classmates. Or at least, he thought it was the hair since eyes would frequently dart upwards towards choppy mass on his head.

God, he would die three times in a row to have his parka right now.

Apparently Japanese schools were rather strict on uniforms though, so all he had was the uncomfortable and stiff fabric of the newest clothes he had ever owned.

It was uncomfortable. People were staring at him. The teacher didn’t speak English. And to top it all off he still had to meet with the executives for the creepy company, that had more or less bought him, after this.

Free rides to fancy foreign schools in fancy foreign countries didn’t come free.

“Hello?”

Kenny blinked and turned to the speaker, startled at the sudden use of English. It was a bit stuttered, and it came from a small girl that wasn’t _hiding_ behind her friends, but they other two did seem to be acting as some kind of shield.

“Hi?”

“I’m Lisa.” the girl said, holding out a nervous hand, “I used to live in Michigan so I know some English.”

Oh.

Kenny felt a bit cheered. _Communication_ ! It was such an under-appreciated thing in his life, he normally hid behind his hoodie and made smarmy comments that no one could understand. The thing is, he _chose_ to wear the parka and he could take it off just as easy, easing communication.

There just hadn’t been an option here.

“I’m Kenny.” Why didn’t he have anything cooler to say? “I’m from So--” stupid, no one would know about some hick town in the middle of nowhere, “--Colorado.”

It was a stilted and awkward conversation, the girls at Lisa’s either side pressing her to ask questions that she translated shyly. With each passing question though, Kenny’s heart sunk lower.

This wasn’t really a conversation at all.

He was an attraction.

“How long have you been in Japan?”

“Just got here.”

Giggle, giggle. Whisper, whisper.

“Is that your natural eye color?”

“Yes.”

Choruses of what had to be the Japanese equivalent of ‘cool’ judging by the tone.

“Do you like Tokyo?”

“...Sure.”

It was an endless stream of meaningless information to appease the curiosity of the newest oddity to enter their lives. It wasn’t malicious or anything, Kenny had more than enough experience with truly malicious bastards to know the difference.

It didn’t need to be malicious to hurt though.

“I--I’ve gotta go.” Kenny adjusted the school bag he’d been provided with anxiously, “I have to meet with my…” What the hell had he called it? “...Study-abroad coordinator after school.”

“Oh.” Lisa looked a little put out, quickly translating for her friends, “See you!”

Kenny waved weakly and made his retreat.

The next three years were going to suck.

He gathered himself, no point in getting so disheartened. He should take in the sights of the city. Not everyone got to visit foreign countries at all.

The buildings were thin and tall. He’d swear he’d seen a 7/11 on the bottom floor of what appeared to be an apartment building. Everything was weird looking and cramped.

His eyes swiveled away from the architecture and back to the people. More staring. He reached for drawstrings that weren’t there and cursed the stiff fabric of the bland uniform for the hundredth time. He wasn’t wearing a hood.

Gazes intensified and by the looks of them a few knew enough English to understand the bad words.

He did the only sane thing to do when you accidentally talk to yourself in public. He ran away like a crazy person.

Only made sense, seeing as they were going to stare at him no matter what he did, he might as well book-it in hopes that, at the very least, he stopped noticing the intense burn of their stares.

Trouble was he didn’t look where he was going and crashed straight into one of the many bikes going way too fast on the sidewalk.

Shouldn’t have been a major accident, the cyclist ought to sustain the majority of the injuries all things considered, but this was _Kenny’s_ life, so of course the impact sent him flying backwards onto the safety rail between him and the street. And _obviously_ a child would rush by at that exact instance, sending him toppling over and into the direct path of an approaching car.

Even the damn cars looked weird, he noted bitterly as a truck that was much thinner than he’d seen before crushed him underneath its weight.

Through the pain he had at least one hope: maybe he’d wake up in his bed back in South Park, like so many times before. Maybe he could just stay there and the creepy company wouldn’t bother looking for him. Maybe he’d spend the next three years in the afterlife and by the time he returned to the land of the living he’d have finished his contrac--

Gasps. Screams. Panicked Japanese garbled in his brain with the sudden sensation of reversal.

Kenny lurched, gasping in air and staring horrified in front of him at the traffic now seamlessly driving around him, with the occasional honk.

What _was_ that? He felt his body for the broken bones and crushed organs but everything felt normal.

People were walking by again, as though nothing had happened, now avoiding looking at him.

Of all the strange and terrifying ways he’d returned to life, he’d never done so in such a quick fashion. He’d passed away, he knew he had, but here he was.

Someone cursed at him to get out of the road. Or at least he assumed they did, language barrier still dulling the world around him. It was accompanied by a horn though so he figured it was a safe bet.

“What the actual fuck…”

Finally he stood, hopped over the safety rail, and resumed his trudge to the ‘coordinators’ office.

He was Kenny McCormick. He was used to shit being utterly bizarre and unexplainable. For now he needed to learn about the weird ‘monster hunting’ clauses in his contract.

_\--New faces_

“Say that again and I’ll break your neck, ya cabbage! You’re garbage, ya hear me? Garbage!”

Inwardly, Kyley felt like the world slowed down.

The fat bastard that had greeted him with a slur was falling backwards while what felt like the entirety of the student body looked on.

His sweater vest was itchy and the glasses felt like overkill. He’d just wanted to fit in. Come to South Park, make a new start. That had been his plan.

He’d gotten through three whole days of holding his temper and trying to match the speaking patterns of his schoolmates. Three whole days of holding his tongue and coming home to his mom’s proud face that there were no scratches on his fist.

She was doing her best to fit in too. Gone was her normal loose curls that cascaded lawlessly around her face. She’d bound it all up into a tight and respectable do that made her look strange in his eyes. She stopped wearing makeup and buttoned everything up to the top.

This was a new start.

The fatass hit the ground with a thud.

Kyley didn’t regret the throbbing in his fist one bit.

He spit at the bigoted bastard.

“I don’t wanna see your face again,” he sneered, listening as sound finally re-entered the hall.

A shrill and childish whine filled the silence, accompanied by the tears of the bastard that had insulted his mother. His heritage. His lifestyle.

Fine. If he was in a town of hicks that thought this kind of intolerance was tolerable, he wouldn’t hold back.

This was supposed to be a fresh start where he cleaned up his act.

He insisted that South Park clean up its act first.

“I’m telling the principal!” The shrill cries of the boy filled his ear but Kyley decided against raising to this bait.

“Go ahead.” He replied, turning to walk away.

“You can’t walk away from me!”

“Watch me.”

He could hear the shocked students milling as loudly as he could hear his own heart.

There was no predicting how his mother would respond to this if she found out. It was likely she’d find out.

“Dude, that was sick!”

Kyley started at the voice, turning to find Stan Marsh from his history class. The other boy seemed nice enough in class. Or at least seemed normal. Kyley could do with normal.

“Someone had to shut him up,” he shrugged, hoping that it didn’t sound as lame as he thought it did. “He’s a fucking menace.”

Stan laughed, an easy and calming sound, “Tell me about it, try going to elementary school with him! I mean, he’s not _all_ bad and he can be pretty fun to hang out with, but he has a mean streak a mile long.”

Calling someone with Kyley’s heritage the word he’d used, in the sentence he’d used, under the context he’d used, and involving his mother to boot, seemed a bit farther than just a ‘mean streak’. ‘Neo-nazi’ was closer to the word Kyley would reach for but he hesitated to voice this.

Voicing his opinion was what got him into fights, most of the time.

“He’s definitely not someone I’ll be befriending.” Kylely settled on. It was still within the realms of honest but lacked the venom that would in all likeliness end with him in an even deeper pit.

“Sounds like a solid plan, dude.” Stan replied easily, giving his back a pat. “See you in history.”

The other boy walked off, hailing an attractive girl down for a chat. Kyley felt oddly alone but shook away the feeling. That was fine. Maybe Stan would become a friend and maybe he wouldn’t. At least he hadn’t broken anyone else’s nose.

A fresh start in a new place. And if he could keep his temper, maybe some friends.

Probably a lot of enemies.

That was fine. Kyley was used to enemies by now.

_Normality at it’s finest_

Another day, another dollar.

“Irrashaimase!” Kenny said with considerably more cheer than he felt.

Or more accurately, another yen.

The customers ignored his greeting and began to peruse the shelves for whatever they’d come to the convenience store for.

He didn’t have to work part-time with his current arrangement. He could more than afford a healthy lifestyle with the stipend he got from the strange shadowy organization that had more or less bought his life.

Lives.

But, it was good practice for his Japanese and he reasoned that having more savings was better than less savings.

An explosion sounded from outside of the store.

The previously aloof customers began hiding among the stacks and Kenny let out a deep sigh of displeasure. Just another day in paradise.

Reaching under the register, he took hold of the now worn locket that controlled his fate.

It was time to start his day job.

Another booming explosion from outside of the store was followed by the sounds of running water and he groaned as he ducked behind the counter. _Great_ , just what he needed, it was the damn narwal monster again. Last time he’d battled that thing it had skewered his head on it’s horn.

“Princess Fighting Love.” Kenny murmured, feeling the tendrils of magic reach out and begin to transform him into a lean, mean, monster killing machine.

In a frilly skirt and holding a pink wand. Of course.

Today, he hoped, the chaos would be enough that his pay wouldn’t get docked for disappearing to fight the forces of evil. God, secret identities were a pain in the neck.

He was going to send a complaint to his handler about this.

_Normality at its worst_

Kyley ran a hand through his hair and debated, not for the first time, his decision to let the undercut grow out. It felt weird, not having the hair by his ears shaved away. South Park had a colder climate than Jersey though and half the time he ended up wearing hats anyway. What was the purpose of doing upkeep on his hair if he was just going to hide it under some shitty knitted monstrosity?

He knew the answer though. _He_ would know. And ultimately, he was the sort of person that itched for proper upkeep of his appearance. Even if it was all hidden.

“Dude, stop messing with your hair, it looks fine,” David the helpful offered, with absolutely no sincerity and fiddling with his phone. Kyley felt doubly anxious about it but restrained his hands.

Stan nudged him, “Worried about a _girl_?”

It was supposed to be a casual tease but Kyley still hated it on principle, “Why is everything about romance with you? Can’t I just care about my appearance without you equating it to some unfulfilled romance?”

Stan looked blank, “So, that’s a yes?”

“...David, restrain me before I strangle Stan.”

David didn’t even twitch, still absorbed in something on his phone, “Where would I get my entertainment then?”

They were good friends. Relaxed and for the most part they seemed to let Kyley’s usual bad attitude roll off of them without a single ill-thought.

He was lucky in that way.

They were nice and he could do things like let his hair get a little out of hand without fear of ridicule. Just mild teasing.

“So, what’s her name?”

That didn’t mean he didn’t sincerely want to snap their necks sometimes.

_Changing on the outside_

Kenny pulled up his sock, the finale to the new him, and looked at his reflection.

Lisa was going to lose her shit when she saw.

For a year and a half he had endured the stares of his peers, pedestrians, and any random schmuck that decided that the startling patch of blond was their business.

He had a new plan. He’d tried everything under the sun to fit in better, to behave more like the others, to assimilate into the culture he’d been plopped into, and it appeared that no matter how he adjusted himself, they still gaped like he was an exotic animal in the zoo.

Fine.

He’d give them something to stare at.

He had to admit, pleated skirts looked good on him. He already knew he made quite the attractive girl from his adventures fighting crime, but the frilly and seemingly impractical uniform that came with that gig didn’t quite have the charm this simple blue skirt did.

He didn’t mind so much when people gaped at him while he defeated monsters from the abyss. It was the only time in his stay that he didn’t care that the world was watching and it was for such a simple reason that he felt stupid for not figuring it out earlier.

When he was doing his job as The Princess, there was a _reason_ to stare. He knew what people were thinking as they watched him because there really wasn’t an incredible span of reactions one could have to an actual magical girl beating the crap out of a fish-monster.

The doubletakes and casual locked stares on the street were different. He wasn’t doing anything special. He hadn’t warranted to be treated like a spectacle. He was just trying to live normally.

He left his tiny dorm room with confidence, enjoying the clacking of his brand new shoes as he went down the hall. It was worth buying the new uniform. It would be worth the inevitable backlash from the teachers for his bold new decision.

He looked _good_ in a skirt and at least, now, he’d know what people were staring at.

_Changing on the inside_

It was time for a change.

He’d tried adjusting his wardrobe to fit in better and it just felt forced. He didn’t mind the more benign fashion trends of South Park. He _did_ mind looking in the mirror and _knowing_ he was changing just to fit in.

But it was time for a change.

It probably wouldn’t mean a lot to anyone around here. He could already see Stan and David shrugging over it nonchalantly. They’d just nod and maybe tease him over it, but they wouldn’t see the meaning behind it.

He was letting go.

He’d always be a Jersey boy in his heart and he’d dress however he damn well pleased, screw what anyone else said.

 _But_ he going to let go of the part of him that was rejecting his new home. It was a symbolic move, more than anything else, but he didn’t feel like he’d really accept this place as his new home without it.

He looked in the mirror for confirmation of his decision and nodded.

“Call me Kyle.”

He liked the way it sounded.

_Graduating from fear_

A burst of color accompanied the explosion.

Kenny grit her teeth as she skidded away from the clash, delicately crafted magical boots dragging against the concrete. Not even a breath escaped her focus while her eyes locked on her long-time opponent.

The monster cackled cartoonishly, prematurely celebrating a minor victory. Oh. She would make sure it lived to regret that.

“Is that all you have, _Princess_?!”

It was strange to think that anyone could sneer a name worse than Eric Cartman could, but there was something distinctly awful and unearthly about the horrible tentacle monster.

“Bring it the fuck on.” She returned, the burning pain in her thigh from the earlier explosion was nothing. She flicked her wand out of time and space, the creature flinched back at the sight.

“This is our last battle.” She admitted, still unsure she wanted to let go of this, her new life, her new calling, “I’m going to make it _count_.”

The monster didn’t wait to retort, a flurry of sharp tentacles darting towards her at speed. She’d anticipated the move and dodged to the left. It was just muscle memory now, a motion so known to her she could manage it in her sleep. A part of her contemplated half-assing. Maybe just calling it a day and going home.

Her contract was _finally_ almost up. The bastards had tacked an extra year on but she’d still managed to get through.

It was her last battle and she almost wanted to give up.

The creature cackled and swiped her legs from under her feet, sending her hip crashing to to the ground.

No.

It took her no time at all to be back on her feet, ducking down to avoid another tendril.

She wouldn’t give up.

In the now four years she’d spent here she’d never given up.

Never.

Not because her handler told her to fight.

Not for the crowds of people she was protecting.

She sent a light beam from her wand at the creature, momentarily stunning it before it burst into increased motion.

Because she didn’t want to. Giving up meant losing and she would eat her jewel encrusted boots before she lost to these creeps.

One lucky shot nicked her arm and knocked away one of the many bangles that declared her a true and real princess.

She was _the_ Princess. Defender of Tokyo.  The one and only.

No one could stop her.

“Unicorn—“

The beast screeched, enraged, and another one of it’s dangerously colorful beams exploded the ground by her feet and sent her flying.

The breath stealing agony of slamming into a building didn’t stop her though. She was continuing before she even slid to the ground.

“—sunshine—“

“Don’t you dare!”

She allowed one cocky grin while she stood unsteadily from her fall, flicking her wrist in the correct associated movements.

“—rats.” She finished, watching as the beast reared back in rage and ambled forward to consume her before the spell took over.

She slammed a boot into what could be it’s skull, just in time to stop the teeth from descending on her.

The thousand paws of countless critters sounded just within ear shot so she chanced a whisper at her opponent.

“They’re coming. They will eat you _alive_.”

In one last ditch attempt to spare its life, it wrapped her in its appendages, squeezing hard enough to snap her spine.

“ _Call them off_!” It demanded, rage and horror lacing the words.

Kenny smiled.

It was her last day on the job. She may as well go out like a mother-effing princess. The rats would do the rest.

Between the crushing strength of the tentacles, she gripped her wand, sneering, “Glitter explosion.”

Its eyes widened, “You’ll die t---.”

That was as far as it got before the blinding light destroyed them both.

An end to the Princess.

An end to monster.

Tokyo was safe.

What a way to graduate middle school.

_Graduating from doubt_

It was probably well past the time he should have grown to accept this.

He still didn’t want to.

Ike’s problem was what really forced his hand though.

The smaller boy huddled under the covers with an uncharacteristically fearful shudder.

“I see them everywhere and it won’t stop.”

He hadn’t seen his younger brother this terrified since they were small. It felt as though the older Ike got, the more he shut out emotions, preferring the apathy of sarcastic internet personalities and biting quips to meaningful conversation.

Kyle looked around but he didn’t see anything. He never did.

He did feel them though. At the edge of his sense and crawling about his brother’s room as though they belonged. As though they were real.

He clenched his fists and knelt by his panicked younger brother.

“It’s okay, Ike. I’ll make them go away.”

The brown of his brothers eyes bore into his, desperation masked by confusion, “How?”

Kyle hadn’t done his nightly ritual in years. It was dumb. It was meaningless. It was crazy. Just a way to ease the crazy part of his brain that was convinced that _something_ went bump in the night.

Now, Kyle reached inside for his center, for the first time in the presence of someone else. He tried to block it out though, closing his eyes and shutting away the sounds of Ike’s hiccups.

Inside. Find a strong color. Today it was green. He felt and let it expand, a bubble to expel the forces surrounding.

He heard Ike gasp but he tried to maintain his focus. The first bubble of energy had nudged the creatures but not pushed them out. Out of his brothers room. Away from the small boy that was so scared.

Red tried to explode forth but he quelled it. Green. Just a gentle nudge, like sweeping ants off of the porch.

“Kyle--Kyle!”

Ike’s voice sounded alarmed enough that Kyle opened his eyes even though he hadn’t fully managed to push out all of them. He hoped he could maintain focus--

Ike’s room was floating.

“Holy _shit_!”

Everything dropped to the ground and the brothers stared at each other in shock.

“Kyle, you’re…”

“Don’t say it.” he didn’t want it to be true. He didn’t like the idea that every time he’d told himself he was insane, that it was all his imagination, there really were forces.

And he definitely didn’t like the unexplainable truth of having a force within himself that he had no knowledge about and probably a limited control over.

“Okay.” Ike nodded, fingers still clenched on the fabric of his blankets.

An unspoken promise of secrecy.

There was the sound of the door opening and they both flinched, suddenly the crashing sounds of the bedroom seemed a bit more important than any revelations about weird and unexplained powers.

“Whatwhat _what?!_ ” They didn’t dare turn to face her, “What _happened_ in here?! Ike, why is everything on the floor? What have you boys been up to?!”

“We--” they searched for an explanation but found none that could sum up the experience, “--we’ll clean it up right now, mom.”

“You’re darn right you will!” Their mom put her hands on her hips, “I have no idea where you get this, if your father were still alive, why--”

Kyle tuned her out. She could go on for quite awhile when it involved the departed old man.

Ike seemed to do the same because he had begun to silently clean up the mess that Kyle’s unexplained powers had made of the living space.

There was a delicate tension to the air. His mother ranting, his brother edging around the room carefully, and he knew he didn’t have a choice anymore.

He had to accept this. Moreso he needed to find answers. He couldn’t pretend not to see it.

He couldn’t be normal.

Picking up the broken shards of a mug that had been on Ike’s desk, Kyle set himself a time-table.

In two months he was going to be back in school and he would hang out with other boys his age and try to feel an approximation of normality.

Grimmly, he accepted that for the time until then he’d have to figure this out with Ike. It was one thing if only he was experiencing these bizarre circumstances… it was an entirely new problem if Ike was suffering through it too.

Out of the corner of his senses he could feel something approach and Ike’s startled eyes locked just behind him confirmed it.

He sighed. It was going to be a long summer.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

_\--First impressions--_

Some people have a way of making an impression. Making a wild splash that takes the world by surprise, stealing breath and making cinderella rethink whether or not her entrance was awe-inspiring enough.

It’s a quality that can be used for good or evil. Can be taken as attention-seeking or attention-worthy.

Kyle wasn’t aiming to make a splash for the new semester. He’d made more than enough ripples throughout South Park and he was more than happy to start taking a backseat. He didn’t want to be the center of attention. He just wanted to get good grades, get into a good school, and get a life.

One that ideally wouldn’t end with him being dissected because he stood out too much and someone noticed that he was more than meets the eye.

Cartman, the sniveling nemesis of his existence, had of course tried to start the new school year with some explosion of attention. New year of course means _his_ year.

A perfect example of attention-seeking.

The girl that drew every eye towards her as she sauntered down the hall like she owned the place? She was that other thing.

Kyle couldn’t remember what it was called.

He was busy staring in gobsmacked amazement as her skirt swished gently with each movement.

Was she new? He’d never seen her before. He hadn’t heard about any new families moving to town but the turnover rate for South Park citizens was unpredictable at the best of times.

He didn’t think he could have missed her in such a small town but she didn’t have any of the telltale nerves a new kid usually possessed. At least not visibly.

She had the posture of a princess, hair as light and wild as sunlight, and huge blue eyes that he felt like should be illegal. Top that off with an adorable spread of freckles and he was a complete goner. He wasn’t the only one staring either.

“Dude, you’re letting flies in.”

Kyle’s mouth snapped shut and he tore his eyes away from the retreating figure to give David a look, “Was not.”

Had he _lost_ a few brain cells in the last five minutes?

“Uh-huh.” David would win a prize one day for unimpressed sounds made in neutral tones. It wasn’t likely such a prize existed but it was very likely one would be created just for him.

“I was just looking at her clothes, they were..”

Very nice looking on her.

“...kind of weird looking. Was that an anime-thing or something?”

David shrugged, “I don’t really keep up with fashion.”

“What’d I miss?” Stan’s friendly greeting was accompanied by the full weight of his frame, as he decided surprise hugging their shoulders was a good way to start the year.

David didn’t seem to mind the physical contact though so Kyle tried not to. Tried.

“Kyle finally has a crush.” David said.

“What.” Kyle cut in.

“What?” Stan asked.

If Kyle’s harsh toneless intonation of the word was a touch too harsh, it didn’t stand a chance against the inappropriate glee in Stan’s.

“Seriously, dude? Who is she! I can hook you up!” Stan was way too enthusiastic about this.

Kyle groaned.

“I don’t know and I don’t like her. I just noticed her is all.”

David, quite overly dramatically, began to pull out one of his notebooks from a locker to take notes, “Kyle noticing another human being. This is one for the history books.”

“You guys suck.”

Stan noogied him half-heartedly, finally sparing his friends the weight of holding him up, “Okay, but for real, who is it?”

Kyle tried not to be offended this question was addressed towards David. In all fairness, even if he knew he wasn’t going to admit _anything_ yet.

“Dunno. I haven’t seen her around before. Looked like she was wearing some Japanese thing, though? So she might be a weirdo nerd.” David put away his notebook as he talked, actually retrieving what he’d need for first period history.

Stan cocked his head to the side curiously, “Like, what? Those weird foxtail things that were popular last year?”

“Nah, like a school uniform?”

“Weird.”

Kyle frowned. He felt oddly defensive even though he agreed. He restrained himself though, defending the mystery girl would only ‘confirm’ his crush.

“I’ve got a quiz first period,” Kyle lied as an excuse to escape, opening his own locker to retrieve his AP biology textbook, “I’ll catch you guys later.”

Stan pat his back as he went, laughing good naturedly, “I’ll put in a good word for you if I spot your mystery geek crush.”

Kyle decided then and there that he was never, ever, under any circumstances, going to let Stan play wingman for him.

“Yeah.” David echoed.

Both of them. Just awful.

Wendy caught up to him before long though, jogging up with a morning greeting.

“Ready for our ‘quiz’?” she snarked, nudging him lightly.

“You heard that?”

Wendy shrugged, “My locker _is_ just across the hall and I don’t think any of you have learned a thing called ‘volume control’.” she giggled, “I won’t torture you with what I overheard though.”

Great. She’d just think about it instead and give him no opportunity to defend himself.

“How benevolent of you.” he deadpanned, earning another giggle.

They had just about reached the science room, the sound of their overly enthusiastic biology teacher already audible in the hall.

“You should matchmake Stan, you know.” Wendy said, “It would be a suiting revenge and also he’ll be too wrapped up in his own love life to worry about yours.”

Kyle snorted, “Does that mean you want to get back in there?”

Wendy made a distinctly unladylike noise, opening and holding door for them both, “God no, Stan and I are a walking disaster. A fun disaster, but I’d much prefer to find some stability in a relationship at this point.”

“Or an A.” Kyle snarked back.

She gave him a look, “ _Always_ an A. The only question involved is whether or not there’s a plus.”

There was something great about Wendy’s confidence. Part of it was definitely how little dishonesty was involved in it.

“Fair enough.” Kyle conceded, taking his seat while Wendy made her way to her own.

Wendy was right though.

Who needed a relationship of any kind when there were grades to achieve.

 _\--last only so long_ \--

They really didn’t recognize him.

It should have been disheartening, it really should have struck him hard that no one had cared enough about his departure to notice his stride back onto the scene.

He should have been upset.

Instead he felt an actual skip build in his step.

He could feel the eyes that chased after his pleated skirt and he felt a smug sort of satisfaction over it.

He’d never attracted stares before leaving. Not like these.

A sea of eyes alight with intrigue, interest, and intimidation.

He was a gorgeous exchange student and not, as many would have keenly phrased it, the poorest asshole in town.

Not a soul recognized him and that was all the better. Returning to South Park had been daunting in a way. He’d reinvented himself abroad.

He wasn’t Kenny McCormick the poor kid in the ratty parka anymore.

The skirt swayed around his knees and he knew he’d made the right choice to wear his middle school uniform for his first day back. It was comforting. The pleated skirt, the comfortable fabric. He could close his eyes and pretend he was still in the bustle of Tokyo.

He smiled kindly at his new scholmates as he passed. He was the center of attention.

It should have been disheartening that people that had known him since he was in diapers hadn’t the slightest clue who he was after four years time and a wardrobe change.

Instead it was empowering.

Oh. He was _not_ going to make it easy for them to figure it out.

It was funny how the attention he’d hated so much in Tokyo was something he craved now.

There were a surprising amount of unfamiliar faces in the cafeteria. It made sense that less people recognized him if there were a lot of new arrivals in town though. He’d had a word with David Rodriguez in history and that guy seemed pretty okay.

Kenny wondered if he should only befriend the new kids. Ignore his old friends. Might be for the best. It would be funny to see how long he could go without anyone figured him out.

It would be cool to see how long people would look at him like he was cool and interesting instead of poor and disgusting.

It wasn’t like Stan, Butters, and Cartman were particularly fantastic friends.

Still, his eyes swept over the cafeteria looking for a familiar poof ball hat. He drew a blank and wondered if Stan had ditched the accessary for high school. Or maybe middle school? Guilt gnawed in him with the knowledge that he hadn’t kept up with any of his friends. He hadn’t seen Butters’ blond undercut either. Cartman he wasn’t even sure he wanted to find.

“Oh, hey Kenny.”

Kenny smiled at David who had what looked to be a handpacked lunch, “Hey, David.”

“Do you want to sit with me and my friends? I know it can be a bit daunting when you don’t know anyone.”

He smiled. David really was nice. “That sounds awesome, thank you.”

“Come on,” David navigated the hall like he’d been here tons of times and Kenny wondered about that. It should be the first day of high school for all of them. Was David a second year?

It was going to take some adjustment getting used to the American grade system again.

They hadn't made it far before an arm reached up and flagged them down. Kenny sat down gratefully and prepared to introduce himself.

Face to face with Stan Marsh.

Kenny blinked owlishly. Huh. Well, then there’s that. No wonder he hadn’t found Stan’s signature red poof ball, he was wearing a black beanie.

Oh well, the pretending to be a girl thing was fun while it lasted. Kenny prepared himself for the other boy to out him.

Stan gave him a weird look before turning to David, “Who’s she?”

Ouch. Close friends since pre-school and he wasn’t recognized after a face-to-face. Kenny frowned. Oh, he was going to make this hard on Stan.

Before David could answer he held out a hand firmly, “Hi! I’m Kendal.” he put on his best charming smile, “Call me Kenny.”

Stan took the hand and shook it thoughtlessly. He wondered if the fake name was a bit much.

It was a bit fun though, like one of those childish games of ‘guess who’ played by children that held sticky fingers over their friends eyes.

“And that’s Kyle.”

Kenny blinked and turned her attention to the thus far unnoticed party at the table. The boy in question snapped away from glaring at David to look at Kenny.

He wasn’t sure what part of him he should take in first. There was a lot to take in.

First of all, the dude was clearly trying to rock a punk look or something and was relatively successful. It was blaring in the usual bland fashion in South Park though. He might as well be a neon sign with a carrot-top.

He was cute though.

Kyle held out a hand, “Kyle Broflovski.” his voice was higher than Kenny expected.

He shook the offered hand, noting that Kyle had one of those tighter than necessary grips.

“So, where’d you move here from?” Kenny asked.

All three boys looked a bit lost, Kyle was the first to pipe up, “How’d you know I’m not from around here?”

Oh. Right. ‘Kendall’ wouldn't know that.

Kenny didn’t miss a beat, “Uh… no offense, dude, but your style is a bit… loud.”

Kyle cocked an eyebrow, “Coming from you?”

Rude.

Kenny frowned. He _liked_ his school uniform. It had gotten him through years alone in an unfamiliar place and defended his sanity against the world. He didn’t need to take this shit from some rude punk.

“I’m wearing my school uniform.”

“We don’t have uniforms though.” Stan interjected, nervously catching onto the icy atmosphere.

“From my old school.” Kenny glared at Stan, suddenly caring much less about the game of ‘guess who’ and _daring_ his old friend not to recognize him, “In Japan.”

There. Stan couldn’t not know now. It had only been four years. Kenny hadn’t changed that much, he’d recognized Stan immediately.

He had to remember where Kenny McCormick had moved.

“Okay?” Stan said, looking a touch taken aback.

Describing how he felt in that instant would be a lot.

Kenny clenched his fists, eyes locked onto the nervous blue of the other boy.

He really didn't remember. Kenny McCormick may as well have never existed, so far as South Park was concerned. He'd been written off the show of his own damn life.

Stan's nervous expression didn't offer a single seed of doubt to the assessment.

He stared his old friend down longer than he rightly ought to have, but he he needed the time.

Finally, he made a decision.

He turned to David and put on his best customer service smile, “It was really nice to meet your friends, David. I just remembered I have something to do. I’ll catch you later.”

He didn’t bother saying goodbye to the other two.

Who cares? Stan is an asshole and Kyle is a rude punk. He could make better friends. Cooler friends.

He didn’t need this.

He swiped away the bit of wet around his eyes before it could do its damage.

So, he’d been nervous coming back. So maybe he’d relied heavily on the comforts he’d relied on while abroad.

So maybe he’d been waiting for, hopeful for, Cartman to pop up with an ‘oh my god, what are you wearing, Kinny?’ and Butters to compliment him but probably make some comment about what boys ought to wear. Stan would probably call him gay but in that ‘I don’t know what to do with you’ voice that was oddly endearing.

And maybe he’d been scared they’d just forgotten him.

It should have been disappointing that no one recognized him. It was worse. It was heartbreaking.

He didn’t break step though, even as he strutted out of the cafeteria.

It was also liberating.

No one knew who he was and that meant he could do or be anything.

 _\--but they leave an impact_ \--

Kyle didn’t remember to breathe until long after the girl had strode straight out of the cafeteria.

“...Did I say something wrong?” Stan looked as though he’d been kicked, “I mean, we don’t have uniforms. I was just confused.”

David shrugged, an equally puzzled expression on his face, “Maybe she got shit for the uniform earlier?”

That did nothing to improve Stan’s frown, “She didn’t have to take it out on me though.”

“To be fair, I think she was annoyed with both you and Kyle.”

Kyle blinked, ”Wait, what? She was upset at me? Why?” His heart jolted at the thought, “I didn’t say anything bad.”

Oh god, what _had_ he said? He was drawing a blank. He’d spent the entirety of the interaction inwardly cursing David. Shit, what did she think of him? Had he said something really stupid?

What had _she_ even said? Her voice was still ringing in his ears but the blind panic of the situation was still wrecking him.

Stan and David were giving him twin looks of disbelief, “Dude, she totally snubbed us.” Stan said.

“Snubbed you two.” David amended, “don’t think she has any issue with me. Just saying.”

“Why?” Kyle really needed an answer, this was important.

“Uh. I think she didn’t like us commenting on her uniform?” David pointed out.

“Why not? It looks great on her.” Kyle realized his mistake too late.

Goddamnit. He was too brain fried, he’d completely lost track of himself.

“You care an awful lot.” David said mildly, taking a judging bite of a baby carrot.

“Almost like you have a crush.” Stan added, far more directly.

Kyle gave in, unless he gave them something they weren’t going to stop. “Look, yeah, I think she looks interesting. I don’t have a _crush_ or anything yet. I’ve barely even talked to her. I just think she’s kinda pretty.”

Whatever further teasing he may have been in for was interrupted by a shrill shriek of disbelief. The boys looked up in time to see a fight break out but not in enough time to see who was participating.

“...What is with today?” David muttered, “Everyone’s way too high-strung.”

Kyle shrugged helplessly, a touch grateful that he wasn’t included in the high-strung. Small wins were important.

Stan squinted at the figures swiftly disappearing behind the crowds of curious students, “I think it’s a chick fight?”

None of them made an effort to join the gawking audience. Kyle was pretty sure Stan wanted to but he knew by now that David and Kyle were unlikely to follow.

Kyle had seen more than enough fights. David just didn’t seem interested.

“Huh, is that Bebe?” Stan craned his neck.

Kyle left him to it.

He wasn’t lying, no matter how much he doubted his friends would believe him. He didn’t have a crush. There was just… something about her that stood out. The world fell away somehow and there was a person that just _shone_. It was almost supernatural.

Something about her was just off and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

And, as he’d said, she was also quite attractive.

Now that he had a moment of calm to reflect on the conversation he couldn’t help but like the bits of attitude she’d shown as well. She was observant and didn’t take shit. He liked that.

It reminded him of home, just a bit.

He didn’t have a crush or anything though. Not yet at least.

David nudged his shoulder, “For real though, teasing asde, do you want me to try putting in a good word for you?”

Kyle shook his head, “Nah, don’t worry about it.”

If, and he did mean _if_ , he decided he liked this ‘Kenny’ girl he was _perfectly_ capable of wooing her himself.

"You sure about that, dude?" David snorted.

Kyle narrowed his gaze, "Yeah, I'm sure." Honestly, it sounded like David thought he was going to look her deep in the eye and call her a cabbage.

“Oh _damn_! I think Bebe just broke Heidi’s nose!” Stan’s attention, meanwhile, was completely dedicated to senseless violence. Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Wonder what they were fighting over…” Stan settled down a bit, noticing a teacher entering the cafeteria and quickly beligning for the fray.

“My money’s on the fattass or shoes.” Kyle offered, half-heartedly.

“You do know that girls think about more things than shoes and boys, right?” David admonished.

Kyle gave him a flat look, “Okay, but this is Bebe and Heidi.”

“Ah.” David conceded, “Yeah, story checks out.”

“Huh… so new girl moved from Japan, right?” Stan said, interjecting a new topic to the flow of conversation.

“That’s what she said.” David confirmed.

“I have a friend that lives in Japan. Haven’t talked to him in years now though.” Stan laughed, “Small world, right?” he paused, scrunching his nose, “Or was it Korea? Shit, I don’t remember. It was somewhere in Asia. Wait, actually, I'm like ninety percent sure it was China. Yeah, definitely China. Maybe?”

“Because everywhere in Asia is the same.” Kyle didn't’ mean to be judgmental, it was just his nature to pick on the holes in arguments.

Stan rolled his eyes, “That’s not what I mean, dude. I just really don’t remember that well. It was a long time ago. I was like ten or something.”

“Were you guys close?”

Stan shrugged, “Sorta? Bit of a quiet dude. Never got a great read on him, to be honest. Sucks we fell out of touch though.”

“It happens.” David said, returning to his food.

Kyle turned over the information in his head. Maybe she stuck out to him because she was from the other side of the planet. Or lived there briefly? It could just be a cultural difference he hadn’t pinpointed that was glaring at him. He was a stickler for details like that.

The culture shock he’d experienced when moving here still stuck out to him. He was a bit sensitive to those sorts of things. That made sense.

He felt a bit satisfied ot have found a logical explanation to his strange preoccupation.

 _That can change a person_ \--

All things considered, Kenny was of the opinion that day one didn’t go so bad. He wasn’t going to keep wearing his uniform though, which left the question of wardrobe.

The return to his tiny rundown bedroom was exactly what he’d expected. They’d used the empty space to stack boxes, store odds and ends, and eventually put Karen in there as the new tenant. This left him on the couch.

He didn’t really mind that though. Karen deserved her own room.

It did make unpacking a bit tricky though.

Anything he had owned prior to the move had long since been lost in the chaotic influx that was his parents house. It should be sad that all of his worldly possessions fit into two neat suitcases but he figured that was for the best.

You never knew when you had to leave in a jiffy.

Kenny frowned at the dresses he’d laid out for tomorrow across the couch, carefully dodging a strangely damp spot. Much as he’d initially disliked school uniforms, they did take the stress out of choosing an outfit.

Not that he’d really ever experienced that stress before. He used to just be able to plop on an orange parka and call it a day.

He missed his parka. It’d gotten caught in the middle of a boss fight and been incinerated. It was well enough, he’d been growing out of it, but it was an old comfort he no longer had.

Karen saddled up beside him, “I like the one on the left.”

Kenny wrinkled his nose, “You don’t think it’s too short?”

Karen considered this and then, without any consideration for privacy, began to rummage through his luggage. He didn’t know if he missed this sort of thoughtless invasion or would ultimately miss the respectful distance his dormmates had.

Without warning, a pair of shorts was tossed at his head, followed by some socks. “Wear it with these!” Karen grinned, “You’ll look adorable!”

Kenny ruffled her hair, he wasn’t sure he agreed but he would happily wear her recommendation.

It was really nice to be around family again.

The entire four years abroad and his parents had never once been able to afford a visit or vice versa. Kenny had known it would be the case coming in, prepped himself, but that sort of distance had a way of taking a toll. At least he’d been able to call and write.

It was weird that Karen was so much bigger now though. Much more confident. He knew she’d grown, logically, but a part of him still expected to come back to a small girl hiding behind him.

A stray glove got him square in the face, “Wear these too!”

“Aye aye, Ma’am.” Kenny chuckled.

Karen paused in her rummaging and looked up, “So… you’re really not gonna tell your friends? Weren’t you pretty close?”

The gentle pull in his chest was ignored, he hid it behind a grin, “I want them to figure it out on their own.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. Just let me know if you need anything.” she stood up and leaned against him playfully, “I’m a powerful force in this town, I’ll have you know. I practically run the middle school newspaper.”

There was a temptation to let her topple but instead he decided to crush her under his weight, “Yes, yes, I remember, you’ve mentioned. You rule over the school, well, with the exception of your rival.”

Karen’s eyes narrowed dramatically, fist pumped to the air, “Dougie!” she proclaimed, “Did you know he scooped me. _Me_. I am offended.”

“You should scoop him then.”

“I’m _trying_.” Karen whined, slowly letting gravity and Kenny’s weight bring them to the floor in a puddle of giggles, “But he’s so secretive about his stories!”

Karen’s mailroom adventures were one of the highlights of the letters from her. Partially because they were accompanied by her articles and he had something to show off about his sister, but also because the hilarious amount of competition that apparently went on in a student newspaper was one of the most bizarre and hilarious thing he’d ever read about.

“Well, let me know if I can do anything.” He echoed her previous sentiment, “I can be quite handy.”

“Will do.” Karen smiled.

This was nice.

The carpet was old, smelly, and probably had substances on it that were a health violation of some kind. The house was creaky and felt like it might fall apart at any given moment. The walls were stained with who even knows what.

His nice Tokyo-bought pajamas were probably getting infected with poor and all he could do was smile as his little sister cuddled up on the floor, pulling out her phone to take a terrible selfie.

He knew, logically, he shouldn’t feel so comfortable surrounded by grime.

Should and shouldn’t were kind of stupid words though. Ultimately they were a way of pre-deciding how a person should think or feel before they had an opportunity to experience life for themselves.

He figured they were good words to toss out the window.

“Hold up, that was a cute one, I’m gonna send it to Tricia.”

“You guys are still hanging out?”

Karen looked up and waggled her eyebrows, “Who can resist hanging out with me.”

Kenny snorted but his retort was cut off by a weight crushing them both.

“I have a list.” Kevin filled in, lying backwards on his two prone siblings, “My name is on there twice, just so you know.”

“Are you still bitter I took your chocolate? Because I’m not apologizing.” Karen made a scoffing sound that was somewhat hampered by the weight of the eldest McCormick sibling, “You shouldn’t have left it alone for so long.”

“I was _saving_ it.” Kevin all but wailed, “You’re a monster. Kenny, you’re my new younger sister, Karen is disowned.”

Kenny snorted, “Okay, but who’s gonna fill the younger brother role?”

A cartoonishly boyish voice joined in, “I can handle this. I’m Kade. I don’t eat other people's chocolate.”

Kenny lost it laughing, “Don’t trust him, Kevin!” He managed with an overly shrill voice, “He sounds like a chocolate thief to me!”

Kevin made a thoughtful sound, “I agree. It’s too soon to trust this Kade fellow.”

Karen continued, “No, no, Kade is totally trustable. Kade only steals chocolate from older brothers that weigh an actual ton.”

Kevin gasped dramatically.

“Why does Kade talk in the third person though?”

He felt Karen shrug, “Kade will stop talking in third person when Kade’s chocolate demands are met. No sooner.”

“Since when do you have chocolate demands?” Kevin shifted his weight, now less of a crushing top to the dogpile, “Is this a hostage situation? Do you still have my chocolate?”

“...Kade will return parts of the wrapper until demands are met.”

This, of course, resulted in Kevin giving up on diplomacy and going nuclear with the tickle offense. Kenny was offended that he got caught up in the crossfire. Truly, a casualty of war.

He squirmed away, “Hurry, Kade! We must show no weakness!”

Karen wasted no time and tackled her oldest brother while Kenny prepared for his own offensive.

Kevin howled with laughter, “You cannot join forces against me! I’m the oldest!”

“Older means lamer, just saying.” Karen snarked.

“Hey!” Both brothers choresed. They turned to one another, devious minds ticking.

“Destroy the small one!” Kenny called.

“Capture the chocolate stealing fiend!” Kevin agreed.

Karen shrieked with laughter, running away down the hall.

The zanity of the situation filled something he hadn’t even realized was lost.

He’d missed this. He’d missed his siblings and ridiculous fights and pretending that he was still ticklish.

He’d missed his family.

Who needed friends like Stan who couldn't even recognize him when he had awesome people like this.

 _\--bit by bit_ \--

Doodles bled into one another and Kyle was forced to accept he wouldn’t be getting any studying done this evening.

It wasn’t a particularly eventful day, not for South Park, but he was still stuck on it.

He’d barely seen heads or tails of the new girl after lunch and that had bothered him. Stan and David’s prodding didn’t really help either.

“What’s bugging you?”

Kyle blinked and looked to his younger sibling in the doorway, “What makes you think there’s something bugging me? Also, have you heard of knocking?”

Ike raised a single skeptical eyebrow, entering without permission, “The door was open. Besides, you kept thumping the desk every few minutes. I can hear it from my room.”

Curse the thin walls of their suburban two story home. Kyle frowned.

“Nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” Ike sat on his bed, “And nothing sounds like a thumping sound because…?” He trailed off meaningfully.

“Fine.” Kyle frowned, “There’s a new girl and the guys are convinced I have a thing for her.”

Ike shrugged, nonplussed, “What’s the big deal with that? She really unfortunate looking?”

“No--just--it’s not true. That doesn’t even factor into it--they’re just being weird, okay?” Kyle groused.

“Ah, so she’s really hot.”

Goddamnit.

“Look, it’s not about her appearance.”

“So you enjoyed talking to her?” Ike asked.

“I didn’t talk to her for more than two seconds.”

Ike gave him a blank look, “Okay, so you paid enough attention to her that people got on your case but it has nothing to do with her appearance or personality.”

Well, when you put it like that.

Kyle groaned.

“She just seems different, that’s all.”

He would pay good money to never have to endure the expression his brother was giving him again.

“And you _don’t_ know why they’re teasing you?”

There should be a special karma that exists only to hunt down snarky younger brothers. Kyle flattened his head on the desk, groaning.

“I swear it’s not like that.”

“Alright.” Ike replied easily, “I believe you. Feel better? Gonna stop abusing the mahogany?”

Somehow that didn’t really help.

“I’ll stop hitting my desk.” Kyle compromised.

Ike shrugged, “Good enough for me.” He moved to retreat but paused, “You sure you don’t want to actually talk about it though?”

It was so uncharacteristically nice that Kyle felt a little touched. Still, he had no intention of spilling his guts for anyone to see.

Not that he really knew how he felt about anything yet, other than frustrated.

“I’m good. Go back from whence ye came, twerp.”

The extremely exaggerated eye roll wasn’t appreciated but Ike compiled and left, closing the door behind him mercifully.

Kyle leaned back in his desk chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

He missed the dirty ceiling from their apartment in Jersey. The white above him always bothered him. It was boring. Blank.

It felt like a reflection of who he could become.

It was a struggle. He wanted to tamper down his intense temper. He wanted to express himself. He wanted to avoid making a scene. He wanted to burst with energy. He didn’t was to stick out. He wanted to show the world what he could do.

Absently, he reached out and floated his discarded pen. It hung in the air next to him peacefully and he wondered how much time he’d spent just to have the precision to manage this. It seemed like everything about his unexplained power was go big or go home. It was easy to lift a room but required significant focus to lift a single object.

He wondered if this was normal. Or at least normal among people that had some sort of power. A quick google search over the summer had given only expected answers. Most people were hacks.

He didn’t like being a legitimate supernaturally inclined person. It just didn’t sit well with him.

He didn’t want to consider that he was alone in this either. If he was just one among a hidden subsect of people that weren’t dumb enough to declare their ‘powers’ publically, that was something he could live with.

On the other hand, if he was the only person, aside from his brother, that showed these sorts of symptoms...

He didn’t like it.

The pen dropped and he let out a long sigh.

He should just go to bed. Take on the world again tomorrow.

A beeping from his phone disrupted his half-hearted plans and he glanced down to see a text from Leslie.

Right. The group project.

He hadn’t even started.

He picked up the phone and quickly shot back a response with a manageable deadline.

“This sucks.” He told the ceiling.

“You suck!” His brother called back.

Goddamn thin walls.

“Go to bed!” he retaliated.

“Make me, grandpa!”

He was to commit fratricide someday. Someday soon.

His phone flickered again, distracting him from impudent children, and he glanced back down at the text, starting a bit at what he saw.

_Do you think you could be happier?_

Answers like _obviously_ and _who couldn’t?_ Came to mind immediately, but his fingers paused on the touch screen.

 _Why?_ He asked instead.

There was silence for a long while. Kyle returned to changing for bed and was practically tucked in by the time Leslie sent her next text.

_Just curious._

His eyebrows shot up, a reply like that shouldn’t have taken ten minutes. Though he reasoned that she could have gotten busy.

It was a weirdly personal question though. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to Leslie much one-on-one before, this group assignment was the only reason he even had her contact info.

The question stuck with him long after he put down his phone and tucked into bed.

His immediate answers to the question weren’t promising as to his mental state. In reality, obviously most people could be happier than their current status. But, then again, it was also true that he didn’t feel particularly happy now.

He was satisfied with his life. He couldn’t say he was particularly happy with it though.

It was troubling.

Something bubbled up from the depths of his heart, a reminder of days when he wouldn’t let the world drag him, not at any cost.

If he wasn’t happy now, did that mean he’d lost something valuable?

What could he do to be happier?

Kenny from Japan seemed pretty happy. Walking down the halls full of confidence and without a single hesitation. Rejecting the olive branch of friendship with Stan as if she was self-assured enough to assume she could have other, better, friends and didn’t have to settle for ones that had offended her.

He wondered if they really had offended her. Maybe she really did have something important to take care of and it had just been awkward timing.

What could he do to be happier?

What made him happy?

Hesitation was the enemy.

He hated sitting in contemplation for hours without movement. He wanted to speak. Scream. _Act_.

Not float tiny pencils. Lift mountains.

He could too. He hadn’t tried, had no reason to try, but a confident little pulse in his heart knew he could. Knew that should the moment arise, he could do just about anything and he _wanted_ to.

Could do anything but be normal and bland like the ceiling over his head.

Could be anything but satisfied that good was good enough.

He punched the air over his head.

Hesitation was pointless.

Tomorrow he’d do something, anything, without restraint.

He needed to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> owo feedback feeds my soul and inspiration<3  
> Thank you for taking the time to read<3 I hope it was enjoyable!!! :D


	3. Chapter 3

Kenny stared in horror at the bruises dotting his sisters face. It hardly felt real.

Kevin, usually the one to be stunned into silence, was busy fussing over her and mitigating what damage he could.

Kenny couldn’t move.

And then one of Karen’s terrified shivers spurred his body into action, immediately assisting Kevin’s clumsy first aid and words of terrified concern spilling out uncontrollably.

“Who did this? What happened? Oh, god, Karen are you okay?”

These weren’t the usual shallow bruises left by their parents. These were red, purple, a rainbow of colors on his sisters face coated with blood. There was a lot of blood.

The trembles didn’t match up either and Kenny couldn’t breathe because Karen hadn’t choked out a single word since she’d stumbled into the house a few minutes ago.

Belatedly he noticed that the purse he’d bought for her in Tokyo was missing and something dropped in his stomach.

“Were you mugged?”

Clearly the tactless phrasing didn’t bring her any comfort and Kevin shot him a look. Kenny’s mouth snapped shut and he applied antibiotic ointment to a particularly cruel looking wound on her face.

He knew what caused marks like that.

Someone had slammed his baby sister’s head into the concrete and skidded her face against it. Automatically he searched the back of her head for damage. A bit of blood matted her hair and he felt like there was no air in the room at all.

“Kenny, go grab me a wet towel or something.”

He was grateful for an instruction. He rarely had to bother with first aid, his wounds were either lethal or minor. Someone had brutally assaulted his sister after she’d been prone on the ground, if he had to guess he’d say they stepped on her head.

They _stepped_ on his _baby sisters_ head.

Kenny’s blood boiled but he held it in, hurriedly bringing the towel and then searching her body for other signs of injury.

It terrified him how adept Kevin had become with this. He showed no hesitation, didn’t even blanch, just went about treating her injuries and murmuring comforting words.

What horrible things has he missed while he was gone? How many times had something like this happened?

How many times had he not been there for his siblings when they needed it?

Why was he fighting monsters overseas when there were monsters right here at home?

A small sob finally cut the air and Kenny’s body moved on auto, arms wrapping around his sister as the shock finally peeled away and left only an explosion of tears.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She kept apologizing.

“It’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault.”

Another sob wracked her form and Kevin’s arms wrapped around them both.

“I--I lost the bag--”

Kenny felt a lump build in his throat and swallowed down, “It’s not important. You’re important.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t or wouldn’t hear him. There wasn’t anything they could do, not for now, except hold her and wait for her sobs to recede. Gentle assurances and heart-broken knowledge.

“It’s okay, Karen.” He squeezed her as tightly as he dared, still dreading what the full extent of her injuries might be, “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

He would make _sure_ she was. No matter what.

And he was getting the fucking purse back too.

\-- _-_

This was it.

Kyle swallowed thickly at the sight of the girl at her locker. She wasn’t out of place in the hall but she stuck out to him.

He could do this. He’d talk to her and he’d figure out precisely why his eyes were drawn towards her. A mystery like this couldn’t go unsolved.

It was purely an academic venture. The slightly damp feeling of his palms was nothing more than nerves before a test. He wasn’t _interested_ , he was pursuing an explanation to his own physiological and psychological response to seeing a fairly normal looking girl walk into the school.

He hated not knowing precisely what it was that drives his actions and thoughts. Most things in life had an explanation, even things as illogical as human thought, and he found that his most profound mistakes came from a lack of self-awareness.

There was a lump in his throat that threatened to drag his entire body to the ground as he walked over, but he wasn’t about to be stopped by something so petty and small.

She didn’t even seem to notice his approach, silently retrieving an algebra textbook from her locker with a slight frown maring her delicate features.

Maybe she wasn’t so good with math?

It came out before Kyle could stop himself, the moment his hand touched the cool of the locker beside hers and everything he’d planned to say was out the window, “I could tutor you, you know.”

Kenny blinked, looking up at him in surprise, she opened her mouth to say something, but the panic pounding through Kyle wouldn’t let him stop.

“With algebra,” he gestured at her textbook, “I’m in advanced mathematics classes.” Shit, that sounded like he was bragging, he sounded like a freaking nerd, “I always have time for a pretty little thing like you--” shit, shit, shit, oh my god, now he sounded like he was flirting. “Not that I think you’re pretty. Not personally, I just think you’re a step above the cabbages around here--” Why was his Jersey attitude coming out?! Someone kill him. Okay, he could fix this, just play it off with confidence, “What do ya say, sweetheart?” _Not like that_!

Kenny was looking at him blankly, as though he wasn’t even using English, and Kyle actually had to review his monstrous attempt at communication to check if he’d slipped into a different language somehow.

He didn’t even speak a second language.

Although the review did enable him to lose precisely all the blood in his face and feel distinctly nauseous.

Finally, Kenny spoke, polite smile and finger tugging at the drawstring that hung from her sweater dress vaguely, “That’s nice.”

“Yeah.” Kyle responded, overly eager to agree with anything she said and instantly regretting not shoving a literal sock into his mouth to stop himself.

She raised an eyebrow, closed her locker, and gave a wave, “Catch you later, advanced mathematics.”

In the wake of her walk away he felt the innate need to bash his own skull in to spare himself the horror of his own stupidity. He probably would have done so, too, if he had anty strength in his limbs to move.

That hadn’t gone as planned at all.

He was never talking to anyone again ever. Or opening his mouth again. He was never going to speak again. He also should invest in a hole to bury himself in and never, _never_ , come out of again. It should be at least thirty feet deep and be fortified with concrete.

A hand patting his shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts and he turned with alarm into the barely restrained laughter of David’s face.

Kyle broke his vow of silence immediately, “Don’t say a fucking word or I break both your arms.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” David said, the amusement dancing in his eyes saying volumes more than words ever could, “If it’s any consolation, I’m not sure she heard a word out of your mouth.”

Kyle groaned and slumped against the lockers in despair, “What makes you say that?”

“I’m pretty sure she would have hit you if she was actually listening.”

“That’s not comforting, dude.” Kyle rubbed his temples to ease the screaming inside his own head.

“I said consolation, not comfort, there’s a difference.” David nitpicked, earning himself an unfriendly elbow to the gut. There was no strength in it but David still _oofed_ dramatically. “You know violent guys aren’t popular either, right?”

“Spare me.” Kyle was actually begging.

\-- _-_

Among the conversations Kenny had in the day, he would be hard-pressed to recall a single one. One of Stan’s asshole new friends hasling him for sucking at math, some chick in economics asking to see his notes, and a teacher warning him not to space out in class was about as detailed as it got.

He had more pressing things to deal with.

Karen hadn’t provided any details on her attackers, even after she’d calmed down, and Kevin mentioned to his horror that this kind of shit just ‘happened’.

 _“The police don’t really come this way.”_ He’d shrugged, like it was to be expected.

Sure, Kenny knew the police in South Park weren’t exactly known for doing a good job. Or doing their job at all. But he’d never really considered what that might do to the crime rate.

A cursory investigation online showed an upward trend in crime for years now, starting before he even left the country, and growing progressively worse as more and more less than reputable organizations realized this small mountain town was the perfect safe haven from investigation.

They could expand their organization as far as they liked and face no repercussions. A perfect place to base their operations and store their illicit goods for distribution.

A more thorough look that had led him to break into the police station last night and sacrifice his sleep showed that these ‘goods’ ranged from drugs to weapons. South Park was sitting on a literal powder keg of criminal activity.

And his family lived smack dab in the middle of it.

He’d known for almost his entire life that his parents paid the few bills they managed through renting out house-space to underground products. Whether it was a few boxes in the garage that they weren’t supposed to ask any questions about or an actual meth lab in the backyard, his parents had never been a stranger to the underbelly of society.

It never struck him how dangerous that really was until he saw the bruises on her face.

The three of them always had a bruise or two. Whether it was a slap for talking back or just an accidental mark from too much horsing around, bruises were just a part of life.

There were so many horrible little things that were just a part of life to his siblings, to his parents, to himself.

It had to stop.

Kenny stood outside the school and stared at the building for a long time.

He would be hard-pressed to remember a single conversation from the day because not a single one of them mattered. Earlier this week he’d let all the petty little things cloud his mind. How to make friends, how to fit in, how to find a balance in the new and familiar environment… it was all pointless.

Meaningless.

He wasn’t focusing on the important things. The ones that mattered. The ones that saved lives.

Kenny gave the school one last grim look before turning away. He’d have to rearrange his priorities. He couldn’t let this continue.

Who cared if he couldn’t find heads or tails of Butters? Who cared if Stan didn’t recognize him? Who cared if Cartman had only grown more intolerable with age?

“Make a plan.” He swung his backpack at his side, taking the path to the middle school to pick up Karen and walk her home. “Get shit done.”

He’d have to get back into the crime fighting game.

\-- _-_

Whispers were afloat in the air before Kyle was even anywhere near the school. Two weeks into the new semester and finally the rumor mill had found something intriguing enough to be worthy of attention. New students were only a days worth of gossip, at best, and scandals were too frequent in this student body to be deserving of more than a nod of acknowledgement.

 _This_ though, this buzz of excitement filling the air was something people would _talk_ about. Jimmy in the student paper was more than likely already writing or had written a full expose.

 _Someone_ or quite possibly _something_ was cleaning up the streets. Sometimes quite literally.

Kyle was completely unprepared for the wave of enthusiasm he walked into. He was familiar with the obsession with fads in this school and he did his best to avoid whatever new subject had everyone up in a tizzy.

And _everyone_ was up in a tizzy over it.

“Did you hear?”

“Annie saw him in the rough side of town.”

“What was Annie doing there?”

“He wrapped up three known criminals and left them tied up in front of the police station!”

“I heard he’s actually some kind of ghost, that he just disappears.”

“What? Like Batman or someshit?”

“Did you hear? He was seen picking up garbage around the tracks.”

“What, so like a janitor? Is he a superhero janitor?”

The buzz of information flooded around him with such intensity that he knew parts of the information were at least a few days old.

In Kyle’s defense, he’d been busy with his class schedule and distracted by actually living his own life instead of indulging in gossip about the lives of others. It still didn’t help the feeling that he’d somehow missed a step that everyone else had no trouble with.

And over a damn vigilante. Kyle scoffed, ready for Stan when the boy bounded up with wide excited eyes.

“ _Dude_ , did you hear?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, “About the vigilante? Yeah. Sounds like real cabbage.”

Stan’s expresion dipped, disapproval etching into a frown, “No need to be so negative about it. I think it’s really cool someone’s making an effort to improve shit around here. A girl in my neighborhood got mugged last week, it was pretty brutal. I think it’s about time someone did something.”

“By putting on a ridiculous cape and flapping around town pretending to be Batman? Sorry, dude, I do think that the town needs some work but a caped vigilante just sounds lame.”

There were better ways to get involved, Kyle reasoned, community outreaches and letting the police do their job. This guy was going to get himself or others hurt.

Besides, nothing he’d heard sounded the guy _really_ had any sort of special power. Probably some gross middle-aged guy having a midlife crisis and getting in way over his head. Kyle could practically already read the headline in a weeks time ‘local drunk idiot gets himself killed trying to play hero’.

Kyle snorted to himself, the idiot should leave it up to the professionals.

Stan gave him a friendly shove, “Dude, you sound like Cartman.”

It was like being splashed with cold-water first thing in the morning, Kyle’s eyes narrowed, “ _What_?”

Stan shrugged, “I heard him shit-talking the new vigilante this morning. He would _not_ shut up about how ‘unqualified’ and ‘lame’ the guy is.”

Yeah. Being compared to a bigoted bastard first thing in the morning was not a good way to start the day. Kyle glowered ahead and made a quick excuse about needing to go to class.

If anything the knowledge doubled his dislike for the stupid smelly wannabe hero. If the vigilante hadn’t been pulling dumb crap, Kyle wouldn’t have gotten such a gross start to his morning.

God, ‘Mysterion’, what kind of lame name is that?

Wendy saddled up next to him with a sympathetic shoulder pat, “If it makes you feel better, I don’t really care for the whole vigilante thing either.”

It did. For one whole second before Wendy spoke again.

“But yeah, Stan wasn’t kidding, Cartman lost his shit this morning over the guy.”

Kyle clenched the strap to his backpack. He might hate this ‘hero’. Just a little. Just a lot.

No matter. He just had to get through today. The fad would die down. They always did. He just needed to wait it out. Wendy made herself scarce when they reached the classroom and Kyle was left to his own devices.

A familiar laugh drew his eyes to the still open door of the classroom.

Oh. Great. A reminder of that other thing that was terrible.

Kenny stood just outside the room having a friendly chat with Annie. Both girls were giggling over something unheard and Kyle had the inkling suspicion it had to do with everyone’s new favorite superhero.

‘Superhero’, what a ridiculous notion. He frowned at the thought, a fresh wave of distaste washing over him at the sight of Kenny’s smile.

It looked unguarded. Nothing like the stiff polite smile from when he’d crammed his foot so far down his throat that he still tasted his own shoes.

The posture was easy, laid back, she’d only started school here recently and here she was chatting with Annie like they’d known each other since they were in diapers. She gave the other girl a comforting shoulder pat and Kyle realized in a rush that Annie was one of the people he’d heard about hearing the vigilante.

The more he watched, the more it looked like a girl being comforted. Had Kenny heard the rumors and gone to check up on her? Or were they already friends?

Whatever answers might have been gained from continuing to creep on the unheard conversation from his desk were cut off by the door shutting and the teacher declaring the start of class.

\-- _-_

The night wasn’t his normal crime-fighting habitat. Magical girls were a sunlight gig, everything in the bright of day while the danger swept through the streets of Tokyo.

He wasn’t a magical girl anymore though. Even if his transformation broach _hadn’t_ been repossessed by the company at the end of his contract, transforming in South Park would be like screaming his identity to the world. ‘Wow, a blond foreigner moved from Tokyo to Colorado at the _same_ time a blond foreign superhero did the same? What a coincidence!’ Was an unlikely mentality outside of sarcasm.

It didn’t matter though. Darkness was more suiting for the crime here anyway.

It wasn’t like the bright explosions of glitter in Shinjuku where local police officers blockaded the street so he could do his work.

Crime here was more insidious.

Silent and crawling through the shadows. The world shuddering under the weight of crimes held in secrecy.

There were the corrupt, there were the cruel, and there were the desperate. Those were the categories that Kenny had been able to make any sense of in his time jumping from darkened shadow to shaded secret.

The corrupt were a complicated batch that he needed further information to deal with appropriately. From police ot politicians. Those that turned a blind eye or benefited from the pain of others in positions of power.

The cruel were easier. He could deal with them in a similar manner that he did literal monsters. Break every bone and leave them detained.

The desperate were the hardest. He could see in their eyes their distaste for their current activities. For the way the world had molded them. For their inability to escape circumstance. He could see what very well could have been the future for him or his loved ones. They needed help, not cruelty, but he wasn’t equipped to give them what they needed. For those his actions were case-by-case, requiring forethought and mercy.

Being a vigilante was a bit different than being a magical girl. Not bad, just different. He sort of missed the sparkly wand though. It made for a fantastic projectile weapon.

A muffled scream cut into his contemplations however and he was on the move again.

“Let go of me!” It was a girl from school, Kenny realized even just as he descended on the ski-masked assailant. He tried to put a name to the face but his attention was immediately drawn to fist heading towards his face.

Huh.

No time to dodge.

Kenny did the next best thing. Rearing his head back, he brought it back with force against the fist. The man let out a surprised yelp and started backwards, hugging his fist.

“Did you just hit my fist with your face?!”

In hindsight, Kenny was rather confident that his silence had seemed leering and menacing, because Ski Mask stumbled back further with apparent fear.

In reality he was still trying to un-jostle the probable brain damage that had the organ rattling around in his skull. He took it as a matter of pride that he kept his posture through it all.

That was princess training for you, ensured that you had perfect posture regardless of the circumstances.

He did stumble forward, just a step, but that was apparently enough to scare the crook into literally turning tail and running.

Kenny didn’t give chase. For now, at least, he should check on the girl.

She was clutching her purse to her chest in open shock, mouth agape and eyes blown wide. No obvious injuries though.

“Are you alright?” He ground out, still reeling from his ‘genius’ decision to headbutt a fist.

“F-fine.”

“You shouldn’t be out so late.” Kenny’s brain started working again, “Do you need me to escort you home?”

“Uh, no, I’m good.” She reached into her back and pulled out some mace, “I--uh--I’m prepared for trouble.”

Kenny nodded in approval, half wondering if she intended to use the substance on him. “That’s good. Be careful and stay safe.”

She nodded dumbly and Kenny swept away, taking advantage of a nearby fire escape to parkour the fuck out.

A block away and hidden in the shade of a building, Kenny finally allowed himself to crouch while clutching his forehead.

“Mother _fucker_ , that fucking _hurt_!”

\---

“I’ve changed my mind completely. Mysterion is the real deal.”

Kyle would have very happily bashed his head into his desk.

The Mysterion-mania had only gotten worse after the past few days. Most people that were on the wall about him quickly changing their mind after hearing or seeing some new piece of information.

Honestly, the more he heard about how ‘great’ this guy supposedly was, the more skeptical he became. Maybe he was just inherently contrary but he just didn’t buy that some asshole just donned a cape and was the ‘real deal’.

And now Wendy, his only oasis, his only fellow skeptic, stood over his desk with treacherous words.

“I met him,” she clarified. “Last night. It was kind of scary and I could have handled it but--”

“Woah--” Kyle held up a hand, “Back up, what happened that you had to run into a vigilante last night? Are you okay?”

She shrugged, completely disregarding his concern, though some of the somewhat jittery disconnected sentences she used gave away how anxious she really was, “I’m fine. It just some idiot purse-snatcher on my way home from the library. I was about to mace the asshole but then--he hit a fist with his head. With his _head_ , Kyle.”

“...So, he got punched in the face?” Kyle was not seeing how that logic was working in her mind.

She shook her head, “No, I mean, he fucking head-butted a _fist_ . And the _other_ guy was the one to rear back.”

Kyle had no idea how any of that could be considered impressive. He’d been in a fair number of fights and not every knock to the head had brought him down. That was pretty normal, actually. Headshots hurt, of course, but you didn’t _have_ to go down because of them.

Wendy had clearly seen too many movies and never been in a real fight.

“Uh-huh.”

She frowned, not appreciating his skepticism, he frowned right back, “Look, I thought I’d just inform you from a first hand account that he’s not just hype. He’s actually pretty impressive.”

“Sure.”

He regretted the word as soon as he’d let it out. Wendy was smart, great conversation, and a good friend.

She also had a fiery temper to match his own.

“Fine.” She scowled, “Be that way.” And then she marched away without another word.

“I will!” He shot back, his own temper flaring in response.

He realized the stupidity in his own words and wanted to slam his head into the desk all over again.

Smooth, Kyle.

Instead he gathered his books and retreated the emptying classroom to take advantage of the short period of time in a day that students were encouraged to eat. He didn’t feel much like eating but it was better to feed his brain now fall into a funk later.

He didn’t get far before Stan intercepted him, “Dude! What did you say to Wendy? I greeted her just now and _damn_ , I haven’t seen her that pissed since...” his face pinched together in concentration. “Okay, this isn’t about me,” he deflected quickly. “But for real though, what are you doing pissing off Wendy? I thought you guys were over your weird frenemy rival thing?”

Kyle’s response was swallowed as his breath caught.

There she was again.

Stan, now familiar with this particular dumbstruck look on his best friends face, rolled his eyes, “For real, dude. Just _talk_ to her.”

Kenny, face alight with laughter across the hall, showed no notice of either boy. She was busy having a friendly chat with Nelly, who was also quite amused with whatever the topic of conversation was. How many friends did she have already? It felt like every time he saw her she was talking to someone else.

“I told you.” Kyle barely believed himself anymore but still persisted, “It’s not that I _like_ her or anything. She’s just eye-catching.”

It was apparent that Stan didn’t really share this opinion or believe in Kyle’s bullshit, but in the interest of avoiding a fight he moved on, “Okay, but what was all that with Wendy?”

Kyle frowned and looked back to his friend, shoulders stiff, “Are you sure _you’re_ not the one hung up on a girl?”

To his surprise, Stan actually laughed.

Usually bringing up the disastrous ex-relationship with Testaburger was a sure way to upset the other. Kyle felt a gnawing guilt that it was precisely what he had been attempting out of spite.

Though, now that he thought about, it had been an awful long time since anyone had brought up Stan and Wendy’s break-up.

“Dude, you have _no_ idea how over the Wendy thing I am. We’re just friends now.” Stan snickered again, like there was an inside joke he didn’t intend to share, “I think that’s for the best all around, honestly.”

Some of the tension released from Kyle’s shoulders and he felt just bit bitter over that. It was hard to keep up a good grouchy mood around Stan.

He would swear he was growing soft. Back in Jersey he could be on the war-path for weeks at a time.

Or maybe he was just calming with age.

He had no idea but he hated feeling tamed. Contained. Limited.

“Look, I didn’t mean to piss off Testaburger. She just went and joined the stupid vigilante’s fan club and it’s disappointing.”

“God, you’re such a hipster, dude. Do you _have_ to hate everything that’s popular to like?”

Kyle glowered, earlier chill evaporating at the accusation. Why didn’t Stan just _understand_ this was about more than a petty dislike of fads? Mysterion was _dangerous_. He was some shitty punk that didn’t know how much danger his amatear-hour bullshit was going to put people in.

“It’s not like that.” And with that, like the mature person he was, he stormed away.

“Real charming!” Stan called after him, like an asshole.

\---

There really wasn’t much point in fighting against small fries. Well, there was the purpose of putting a stop to victims in the short-term, but when it came to long term he was going to need to come up with a way to put a stop to this entire issue at its source.

He’d expected it might be challenging to find the individuals pulling the strings, but he didn’t expect it to be damn near impossible.

He knew a lot of products were stored on his side of town, utilizing abandoned shacks and failed businesses as a free storage unit. He’d identified some of the key players that worked the area as well, and he’d been sure at least one of them would slip up and call a boss. No matter who he stalked though, he was getting nowhere.

He wasn’t really half sure the poor assholes even knew who they worked for. He was almost ready to just call it a day and use the evidence he’d gathered thus far to get them arrested. He had pictures, recordings, and home addresses. At the very least it was enough to get the police to start _looking_ and there was a lot to find even if they just looked.

Would it solve anything though?

Kenny melted back into the darkness as he heard footsteps approach. Aggressive. Confident. Angry. Probably another one of the players he hadn’t yet identified.

Although, when shockingly red slicked back hair entered his vision, he actually had to spend a moment to recover. What kind of crowd was Stan _running_ with?!

Kyle--that was his name right?-- looked around like he was on a mission before proceeding through the most dangerous part of town like he owned the place. Was he the son of one of the bosses? Kenny stuck to the shadows, watching the boy’s movements carefully for answers to his mounting questions.

The arrogant redhead didn’t seem intent stopping any time soon, just going further and further into the wretched depths of depravity, his designer pre-ripped jeans standing out more and more as he proceeded. This kid had better have some serious juice, Kenny looked anxiously at the other shadows that were now watching the clearly well-off boy with rapt intent, otherwise he was a lot stupider than he looked.

There was movement from a decrepit building that Kenny knew contained some of the more dangerous materials in town and one of Kenny’s targets stepped out, making a straight beeline for Kyle.

They must have some kind of security feed, Kenny noted. The windows were boarded up and there were no other obvious ways to notice Kyle’s approach.

The man glared down at the teenager, “Get lost, kid. Or we’ll get you lost.”

At this point Kenny really, _really_ expected the guy to puff out his little chest and say something along the lines of ‘My father will hear about this!’ or ‘Do you know who my mother is?’ but instead Kyle seemed intent to just glare at the probably armed man.

“Shit.” Kenny cursed, if his schoolmate really _was_ just stupid enough to wander around the bad part of town like that, he couldn’t afford to let this go any farther. But revealing himself if Kyle actually was a relative of a bigwig could screw his weeks of surveillance.

“And how’s a cabbage like ya gonna manage that?” Kyle boasted, without any apparent regard for his own life. Kenny let out a long and tense breath before springing into action.

By the time he’d descended on the scene, the man was already reaching in his jacket for a concealed weapon. Kenny decided against letting him get that far and brought an elbow down on his wrist before whirling around to send a spin kick to the guys skull.

There was a rumble of movement from inside and Kenny did the mental math. He’d live if shit really hit the fan, but his corpse wouldn’t be able to protect Mr. Hothead here, Kenny grit his teeth and grabbed Kyle by the wrist, “Follow me!” He growled.

Kyle, the asshole that Kenny was seriously starting to hate in this moment, moved barely a foot before digging his feet into the ground like a petulant child.

Kenny heard the telltale sound of guns cocking and decided he had exactly no time for this shit.

In one swift movement he swung down to connect Kyle’s waist with his shoulder and lifted, taking off in a sprint before Kyle had time to realize what had happened.

“What th--put me down!” Kyle cried, completely taken by surprise and barely even struggling.

A gunshot rang in the area they’d been and Kenny resisted the urge to leave the prissy little bitch to the death of his own creation. “After I get you out of here.” Kenny said instead, ducking through alleyways and through routes he would rather not share with anyone, much less this obtuse asshole. It was his only choice though. He knew these routes were a sure way to lose pursuers and his legs were starting to burn under the increased weight.

“I can run on my own!” Kyle protested, voice a touch shrill.

“You had your chance.” Kenny responded, “Before you decided to piss off a bunch of gun toting weapon smugglers. Now you get to be carried like the child you were acting like.”

He didn’t actually expect to stun the boy into silence. He was maybe expecting more of a struggle. He _wasn’t_ expecting to suddenly fall forward as if tripped by an invisible force.

Kenny regained his bearings, looking up at the equally agitated face of his ex-passenger.

Kyle was doing everything to glare him down and Kenny took a minute to listen for pursuers. He let some of his tension leave when he heard none, they’d already lost the brunt of it.

“I was looking for you!” Kyle snarled, pointing an accusing finger, “You’re putting people in danger with your ridiculous bullshit.”

Kenny took a moment to breathe through his nose. He knew if he opened his mouth something very unpleasant might come out. Something reactionary and altogether petty.

After he took his moment he realized he had nothing to lose by expressing himself.

“ _’m_ putting people in danger?” Kenny’s snort almost didn’t fit into his current persona, his only saving grace being his continued deeper growl that persisted throughout, “You just walked smackdab into one of the most dangerous parts of town to pick a fight with a gangster, almost getting us _both_ killed!”

“I had it handled!” Kyle persisted, “And if you’d shown yourself sooner, it wouldn’t have gotten to that point!”

“Why the hell should I show myself to you?!” Why exactly was Stan friends with this idiot?! How was this idiot even in the ‘advanced courses’ he’d bragged about like a jackass?! “What business do you have with me?”

“You’re fooling everyone into thinking you're some kind of hero when you’re just an asshole in a halloween costume!” Kyle accused, voice only increasing in volume. The idiot was going to get them discovered. “Someone is going to get hurt or worse if you don’t hang up the cowl and leave this to the police.”

Kenny’s fist clenched, memories of Karen’s healing bruises still an open wound. “If the police would do their jobs, I wouldn’t have to!”

“How would you know they’re not doing their job? You’re just some nutcase. You don’t have any superpowers, you’re a thug that gets off on a hero complex!”

It would be a bad idea to punch the guy that he’d just exhausted himself rescuing, Kenny reminded himself, besides, it would prove the idiot right.

Kenny took stock of the alleyway they were in. It wasn’t far from the train tracks that divided up the town ever so neatly and if the crooks hadn’t found them despite all of this idiots yelling, they probably weren’t going to.

“Go home.” Kenny ordered, turning to melt with the shadows and resume his previous patrol, “I have no interest in continuing to babysit a bratty child.”

The wind picked up but Kenny didn’t let it stop him from hopping onto a fire escape and giving one last look to the clearly pissed boy.

“You read too many comic books, kid.” He couldn’t let this slide, he just couldn’t, “There’s no such thing as superpowers. Just curses and villains.”

Whatever may have been said in response was lost in the wind as he ascended to the top of the building.

He could see the kid’s route out of the area from here and worst case, save his spoiled ass _again_ if it came down to it. He didn’t have to wait long before the steaming boy stormed away, thankfully away from the rough side of town.

He watched until the kid was out of sight, trying to ease the agitation that still boiled beneath the surface.

What an asshole.

\---

Kyle completely ignored Ike’s concerned look after he slammed the front door, but he did have the presence of mind to retreat upstairs in case his mother had heard the sound.

Of all the--who the fuck did Mysterion think he was?! Just because he was a _little_ tough, fast on his feet, impressively strong, and-- _he was not going to join the assholes fan club_! Who the fuck did he think he was?!

Did he think Kyle couldn’t defend himself?! He had that situation _handled_! It was just some punk with a knife. Kyle could handle crap like that in his sleep.

The gunshots that followed them were a _bit_ concerning but Kyle was sure he could have handled it. He didn’t need to get lifted like a fucking sack of potatoes and carried off like a goddamn damsel in distress!

Kyle didn’t notice he’d punched his door until the soreness in his hand caught up to his brain.

“Ow.” He shook his fist, regretting the pointless show of aggression.

“Yo, Kyle, you on your period?”

Oh, great, now Ike wanted a piece of him too. Kyle locked his door and glared where he was sure his brother was standing just outside it, “Leave it, Ike.”

He could practically _see_ the boy shrug in response, “Sure, just keep it down. You got lucky because mom’s listening to music but keep it up and she’ll probably come up.”

Ike didn’t wait for a response, just walked away towards the neighboring room. Kyle waited until he heard the careful steps enter the room before he slumped back on his bed with a groan.

This was so stupid.

He was right. The guy might have _some_ skill but he was only lucky right now. Sooner or later his luck would run out and then whoever he was trying to ‘protect’ would get caught up in the crossfire.

Showing up to the bad part of town and letting actual criminals see his face _was_ a pretty stupid move though. Kyle _hated_ admitting the lousy wannabe hero had any point at all but the truth of the matter was simple. He’d been in a bad area dressed in eye catching clothes and there was the potential of one of the creeps down there tracking him down and then it would involve Ike or his mom.

He couldn’t let the idiot in a cowl continue to cause trouble though.

Kyle sat up and pulled out his phone, clicking on the overused contact of his best friend without having to think at all.

“Hey, Kyle.” Stan greeted, “Why are you calling so late? Everything okay?”

A quick glance at the digital clock by his bed revealed that yes, it was well after eleven. He should be in bed. He had school tomorrow.

“Why are you still awake?” Kyle asked, the curiosity sweeping away whatever he’d called for.

“Video games.” Stan answered easily, like that answered everything, “Also, some asshole I know just called.”

“Har, har, har.” Kyle mock laughed.

“So what’s up? Are you calling to finally admit you have a jupiter sized crush on the new girl?”

Kenny. She was probably part of ‘Mysterion’s’ fan club, Kyle thought bitterly. Probably thought he was the bees knees, so much better than some annoying honor student that all but called her dumb while offering to tutor her in math.

“No. I--” Kyle realized, belatedly, that Stan might _also_ call him a bratty idiot for wandering in the bad part of town like he’d done, and completely reconsidered recounting the experience to his friend, “--just, frustrated, about the wannabe superhero.”

Stan groaned audibly over the phone, “You’re really not going to drop it, are you? I swear, you and Cartman both are obsessed.”

“You talk to Cartman?” Kyle hadn’t meant to sound accusatory. He didn’t regret it though.

“From time to time, dude. We have classes together, I’m not going to just ignore him.” Stan said.

“Maybe you should.” Kyle clipped, considering just hanging up. This call wasn’t helping anything. He was just getting more and more irate as it continued.

“Look,” Stan’s voice was exasperated, “You’re my best bro and I love you, but you need to chill the fuck out. You can’t police who I can and can’t talk to. Or whether or not everyone likes the stupid vigilante. It’s just a stupid fad, Kyle. They’ll get over it. You’re taking this way too personally.”

Kyle opened his mouth to argue but he was actually shushed before a sound escaped. He was offended that Stan knew him well enough to know what he was going to do.

“And seriously, dude? I don’t see the problem with the vigilante. He’s going out there and helping people. He’s actually making a difference out there. It’s not like you’re out on the streets risking your neck to save people so maybe you should cut the guy some slack.”

“Goodnight, Stan.”

Kyle hung up the phone and stewed in his own regret over doing so. It wasn’t like Stan was _wrong_ and that was the worst part. This entire situation made him uneasy and he hated every bit of it.

He could do all the crap Mysterion could do and _better_ , he had experience fighting and actual powers to back him up.

He shouldn’t have snapped at Stan like that though. He wanted to text an apology but he knew anything he wrote would come out sarcastic and passive aggressive until he’d sufficiently calmed down. He shut down his phone to avoid the temptation and stood up to begin preparations to go to bed.

Just take a quick shower, change into his pajamas, and brush his teeth.

His fingers hummed and he rolled his eyes. He’d also have to spend some time expelling some creatures from his home.

Could Mysterion do that? Most certainly _not_. Just some punk in a mask. Kyle scoffed.

If _he_ were to put on a mask, he’d do way better than that chump.

The thought persisted even after he’d shut off his light and exhaled his last tense sigh for the day.

The ceiling was clean and blank as always and he was doing good becoming a model student. He was fitting into South Park, more or less, and in a few years he’d have those ivy league recommendations that would bring him back to the east coast.

A blank ceiling. A _boring_ ceiling. Boring like him. Suppressed. Dull. A shadow of the explosion of color he could be.

He missed the little designs on the dirty ceiling in the dirty apartment in the noisy city.

Kyle felt the indentations of his nails impale his hand under his blanket.

_Are you happy?_

Leslie’s question still haunted him.

He didn’t need to be happy. He was stable. Stable was better.

He bit his lip and forced his eyes closed.

He shouldn’t do anything. He shouldn’t get involved and he shouldn’t have been out there tonight.

He _shouldn’t_ but that didn’t mean jackshit.

He didn’t accept mediocrity. He never had. If he saw a problem, he fixed it. Fist clenched victoriously in the air.

Was he happy?

Was he doing everything in his power to be happy?

Was he exerting himself? Reaching for the sky and holding onto his goals vehement, indomitable, and with true resolution?

He’d allowed himself to be cowed.

 _Fine_ , he admitted, only to himself, if Mysterion wanted to open that can of beans, Kyle was ready to dominate.

It wasn’t in his nature to hesitate and hold back.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“--I’ve got this!” the agitated tone rang through the crowded hallway mostly unnoticed by passersby. Kenny was one of the few that decided to look up.

Oh, hey. Stan’s asshole friend. Again. Yay.

Kenny’s expression was carefully blank as he watched the redhead approach. It wouldn’t really benefit him at all to let his frustration from the earlier evening leak into their interaction.

“Kenny!” Kyle greeted, expression hinting at nerves but clearly trying to it back, “I’m glad I caught you. I have something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay?” Kenny’s pulse spiked. What if the prissy rich asshole recognized him. The whole purpose of a secret identity was to avoid being targeted or having his family targeted. Shit, four years as a magical crime fighter and he’s revealed after only a few weeks of vigilantism? Was he losing his touch? “What do you need?”

“Uh... “ For whatever reason, the guy apparently lost his train of thought before he’d managed to say anything at all. Kenny added it the growing checklist of reasons this rude asshole was annoying. “You’re--you wear orange.”

Shit. Was this to do with the superhero thing? Really? How had he been seen through?

“Yeah?” Kenny pressed levelly, anxiety spiked to high hell.

“It’s good, I mean, you’re good, I mean--I wear orange sometimes too.”

Kenny looked him up and down, from white tank to his faintly green jeans, raising an eyebrow, “Uh-huh.”

Kyle’s eyes darted over Kenny’ shoulder a few times and Kenny got the distinct feeling he was taking verbal cues from someone. A bit of relief washed over him, whatever this stupid charade was, it was seriously unlikely it had anything to do with Mysterion.

“What I mean is...do you like anyone?” He stopped, re-adjusting his height like he’d given himself a pep talk, “A dollface like you has to have people falling at your feet, I could clear a path for….Just for you. You just arrived, after all--” he faltered again, “Uh, I was just wondering--”

Kenny’s brain halted on the information and he took in the stack of nerves. There were one of two explanations. One: the asshole was here on a bet of some kind. Or two: this unfortunate asshole was sincerely trying to ask him out.

Something distinctly cruel and devious bloomed in Kenny’s heart.

Normally he wouldn’t be a jerk about shit like this. Having a crush is tough. Kenny would know.

Normally he would probably be pretty flattered. If this was a sincere attempt, it  _ was _ almost cute how flustered the guy was getting.

The trouble was that the annoyance from the night before was still fresh on his mind. That paired with all of his previous interactions with Kyle, a series of events that would be labeled as rude, and Kenny was more or less convinced this was indeed the first option.

“--I mean, you’re a lady of taste, so you must--”

With a hundred-watt smile, he cut into the babble, “I do actually!”

“...What?” Kyle’s eyes finally stopped flickering from place to place, landing on him with breathless shock.

“Yep!” Kenny had to work  _ so hard _ to keep any of his malicious joy leak into the tone, “That new vigilante dude! Ya know, Mysterion? He’s just… so  _ mysterious _ . A real hero, ya know?”

Kyle looked like someone had hosed him down but Kenny persisted.

“What about you? Anyone you like? If I know them, I can put in a good word for you!”

“Ah--no. I’m--yeah. I don’t.” Oh wow, he was spiraling. Kenny almost felt bad.  _ Almost _ . “Mysterion? Really?”

Before Kyle could possibly dig his own grave and then shovel the dirt over his corpse, the friendly arm of Stan Marsh wrapped over his shoulder with a sheepish expression. Ah-ha. The probable man that had been giving cues.

“You’ll have to excuse us, I need Kyle for--” Stan searched for something, anything, “--books. Lots of books--lost books! Gotta go!” Stan ushered the boy away swiftly and Kenny watched blanked as David joined them, giving Kyle a sympathetic pat.

Huh.

So, had he been sincere?

Guilt edged at corner of Kenny’s mind but he shooed it away. It’s not like he returned the affections anyway. Kyle had been nothing but a jerk since he arrived, to both Kenny  _ and _ Mysterion.

Still, Kenny looked at the floor and closed his locker, resting his forehead against the cold metal. He  _ could _ have let the guy down easy instead of lying about a crush on someone he clearly hated.

\--

That could have gone better.

Kyle let Stan guide him away from the horror show that was his self esteem, scattered across the hall floor for millions of sneakers to trample on while rushing to various classes.

He didn’t realize he’d been talking until the ringing in his ears allowed him to hear his own voice, “ _ Mysterion _ ?! Mysterion?! That weirdo in a mask that comes out at night?! Need I remind anyone the likelihood that he’s a creepy old geezer having a midlife crisis?!” He didn’t seem that old when Kyle met him but he pressed on regardless, “ _ Anyone _ could do a better job than that meddling creep. He’s not a hero, he’s--he’s garbage, a cabbage if I ever saw one! I’d like him to--”

“Kyle.” David’s voice was cautiously calming and Kyle wondered when precisely he’d arrived. And how much he heard for that matter. Kyle’s mouth snapped shut and he found the intricacies of his own shoe to be far more interesting than the litany of sympathy waiting for him on the faces of his closest friends.

Stan decided it was a good time to fill the silence, all the while guiding Kyle to sit down on one of the bench tables in the schoolyard. “It’s okay, dude. She’s just having a bit of hero worship is all. She doesn’t really know the guy, I’m sure that once she gets to know you…” Stan trailed off.

It was at this point clear as the daylight illuminating the world around them that Kyle couldn’t manage a two minute conversation with the girl without jamming his foot so far down his throat it started coming out the other end.

“It’s hopeless.” Kyle groaned, turning to bury his face in the mock comfort of a nasty school table that probably hadn’t been cleaned anytime in this last century. “Why does this always happen?”

One of his pals gave his back a comforting pat but he didn’t bother to look up to check which one. He didn’t even care that he’d all but admitted that, yes, he did have a tiny sorta crush on the new girl.

And maybe he’d doodled Kenny Broflovski in his notebooks, in the safety of his own home and away from prying eyes before hurriedly erasing it.

And maybe he’d spent an inordinate amount of mornings spending as long as possible to retrieve books from his locker just so he could peek at her from behind the locker door.

And maybe he’d been progressively dressing better and better each day in hopes of grabbing her attention, spending more time on his hair than was technically sane and earning more than a little of his younger brothers ire.

And maybe he’d even played with the idea of showing her what he could do just to see if it impressed her and daydreamed through an embarrassing number of lessons about romantic adventures together.

...So maybe he had more than a tiny crush. More along the lines of a giant ugly monster crush that ate away at his sanity. He hated that though. It didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know her, not really. And he’d also tipped his nose in derision at those that claimed such emotions for those they’d hardly even talked to.

All he’d wanted to do was say hi and ask if she wanted to hang out later. Breach that gap. How had he gotten so off script?

David’s voice was the one to break the silence, “I mean, it could be worse. You could have vomited on her.”

Stan made an undignified noise, “I should have never told you guys about that! Besides, Wendy never held it against me.”

Kyle swore he could  _ hear _ David roll his eyes, “Only because she’s as weird as you are.”

Whatever bickering went on overhead, Kyle tried to tune it out. It was all just a continuation of old battles that no one cared about winning and inside jokes that should have stopped being funny ages ago.

It didn’t help him get sucked into a hole and spend the rest of his days in solitude. Which was his new goal in life.

The gross table pillowing his face offered no solutions or answers. Just stank vaguely of the hot sauce of lunches past.

“--Kyle agrees with me, right?”

Kyle answered Stan’s plea for defense with another groan and the thunk of his head meeting whatever sticky substance matted the table.

He needed to get out of his own head. He needed to stop letting his world turn upside down just because she looked at him. There was something though, a weird sensation of  _ strange _ that overtook him every time her eyes locked on him. Like she was out of this world.

Oh, god, he sounded sappier than Stan at his worst.

“Sure, Stan. I agree with you.” Kyle told the table, letting it absorb his words and strip them of the meaning they didn’t even have.

“See?!” Stan bragged, missing Kyle’s tone entirely.

“Wow, Kyle, that’s quite a stance for you to take.” David sounded amused,  _ clearly _ he’d seen through Kyle’s lack of commitment to the stance, “I wouldn’t have expected this from you.”

He shouldn’t fall for it, but Kyle bit.

“...What did I agree to?”

Stan’s scandalized gasp only proved to punctuate his earlier miss. Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be assholes.”

David had mercy, “We were debating whether or not all the girls were going to fall heels of head for the ‘superhero’ before this fad ends. You just agreed that not every girl, specifically Wendy, would fall.”

Kyle’s eyebrows scrunched up and he lifted his head, “I thought Wendy was already in his fanclub?”

Stan scoffed and crossed his arms, it was such a Wendy thing to do that Kyle had to wonder just how much dating her had affected him. “Hardly. She only admitted that he’s a legitimate hero. That doesn’t mean she has a thing for him. Believe me, she  _ won’t  _ fall for him.”

That was an awfully confident statement, both David and Kyle zeroed in their focus on the third boy, Kyle was the first to begin the interrogation, “You sound pretty convinced. Do you know something we don’t?”

Ah-ha. Stan’s eyes widened a millimeter while he backed up on the bench, putting imaginary distance between himself and the judging eyes, “No--I just, I know her okay.”

“You know something about her that you’re not saying.” David corrected, leaning on the table to get a better view, “Are you guys still dating in secret or something?”

“No! Geez, let it go.” Stan pinched his nose, genuine discomfort coloring his expression and Kyle relented, nudging David to as well, “It’s not my place to say anything.”

Kyle reminded himself, not for the first time, not to trust Stan with secrets that were imperative no one else knew. His tone, discomfort, confidence that it wouldn’t work out between them, and of course stating it was a private matter was more than enough information for anyone with a handful of common sense to make a deduction.

“Huh, that’s a thing.” David commented, losing interest, “I was kinda hoping for something juicer to be honest.”

Stan’s face was honestly puzzled, Kyle wanted to comfort the poor guy, “But I didn’t tell you anything, how would you know if it was juicy or not?”

“We wouldn’t.” Kyle nudged David again. This sort of shit could be oddly sensitive and he wasn’t about to screw Testaburger over.

She was a good friend, but possibly more importantly, she was a powerful enemy.

David, thankfully, took the hint and adjusted the topic of conversation, “I’m pretty okay with this Mysterion guy, despite Kyle’s continued irrational hatred, but I’m kind of worried this whole thing is going to inspire copycats.”

Kyle froze in his seat. His evening plans a horrorscape in his vision.

“How so?” Stan jumped on the new topic all too eagerly.

“I mean, what if some yahoo that doesn’t know what he’s doing decides to jump in and gets himself or others hurt?”

Resentment filled Kyle in the form of a frown, “You say that like Mysterion has any idea what he’s doing. Who knows, maybe a new one will show up that’s better than that hack.”

“I thought you were against vigilantes on principle?” Stan asked.

“I am.” Why did his mouth feel so dry all of a sudden? “I just think it’s a bit premature to assume that Mysterion is the best there is. Or that he’s proficient at all.”

“Right.” David didn’t sound convinced, but didn’t press, “Still, I do think that it’s pretty likely that someone’s going to take one look at his success and popularity, only to get it in their head that it’s not all that hard.”

He felt strangely attacked. He knew that David was speaking on more generalized terms and it was the sort of concern he would issue, but it still felt like he’d somehow been read and was being accused of--of--he couldn’t even list it.

He just felt accused. And uncomfortable. Little bubbles of annoyance were begging to escape his throat in a variety of spiteful little nothings and he felt the need to defend himself.

He clenched his fist under the table to avoid this and tried to tune out the two that seemed to be in agreement.

It was no use saying shit. People never listened to words.

He’d have to prove it with actions. Whatever doubts he’d been having edged away with one final wave of indignant determination.

\---

Kenn--Mysterion wasn’t really expecting anything significant.

It was a typical patrol without any high stakes, there were no rooftops to jump off of or damsels to save. Especially no assholes that were trying to get themselves killed wandering deep into the underbelly of a degraded town.

He was okay with that. Mysterion breathed in the night air deeply and reminded himself he wasn’t Kenny. Not tonight. He was a force of the shadows issuing a firm and consistent warning.

No one would be allowed to disturb this peace. This town was his.

His.

He eyed the quiet night and knew that’s how he felt. This was his. All of it. His home. He’d come back not because his contract concluded, not because he was tired of playing princess, he came  _ home _ .

And he wanted his home to be  _ good _ . Something he could be proud of. Something to protect. Something he  _ would  _ protect.

It was probably precisely because he wasn’t expecting much of anything that sudden gust of wind caught him off balance. Or that the sounds of gunshots it carried caused him to actually stumble rather than stand at attention.

“What the--” Mysterion crouched down and set his eyes over the nearby rooftops, searching for the source of unpleasant popping noise and settling in the direction of the buildings he’d been patrolling the previous night. For a heart-stopping moment he wondered if Kyle had gone back.

The gunshots proceeded though and it would only take the one to hit that doofus between the eyes. They weren’t likely to resort to multiple unmuffled gunshots for just one punk kid.

Mysterion stifled his hesitations and flew over a rooftop to the next, the swirling winds that seemed to accompany the sounds propelling him forward faster than usual.

It was strange. It tingled across his skin, reminding him of the magical sensation he’d walked away from.

Supernatural wind wasn’t something he’d come across before though.

He reached the warehouse in record time but found the gained time was wasted while he gaped at the destruction that had taken the scene. There were several grunts he’d identified earlier knocked out, the small heave to their chest and groans the only things identifying them as alive. Then there was what seemed to be a weapons shipment scattered across the ground while the grunts that remained conscious were crouched and firing at--

A kite?

Mysterion would later be truly embarrassed by the amount of time he spent just staring at the simple metal kite-shaped shield. It took the bullets and in another breath of startled air, a whoosh of wind cascaded from the kite, sending Mysterion from his position in the shadows and the others stumbled backwards.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could swear he saw something crawling in the darkness. Reminiscent of the creatures he’d once purified. He had no time to chase it down with his eyes, they were too caught on the straightening man behind the shield.

_ Damn _ , Kenny appreciated spandex a lot.

A gunman caught his balance out of the stranger’s eyesight, setting aim.

Mysterion shook himself out of it and sprung forward, knocking the weapon away and earning himself the attention of the very sexy--the stranger.

Being caught in his sight felt electric, for just a moment, he barely registered sweeping the feet out from under his opponent.

“Mysterion,” the stranger acknowledged, looking away and returning to the task at hand, a gust of wind that Mysterion finally anticipated taking a few others by storm.

Work now, stare later. Mysterion quickly took in the chaos about. If his headcount was accurate the majority of grunts that worked this location were already incapacitated or retreating. He weighed the benefit of chasing them down but ultimately decided that it was more relevant to deal with the ones that were still very armed and aiming at the magic wind man.

Life is wild sometimes.

Mysterion ducked behind the shield, noting a slightly startled tremor from the man as he did so. “There are three more that regularly work. I don’t see the one that I believe is in charge of this branch, I suspect he’s sneaking out the back.”

He saw a small nod out of the corner of his eye but didn’t wait longer than that, ducking to a crate and around the side of the building. Whoever sexy spandex was, he could clearly handle the remaining three.

“Myste--” he decided against letting the panicked guard finish and punched him solidly in the nose. Unfortunately this guy screwed up his count. If there was one he didn’t count on, the chances were that there were more.

Nevermind that. The timetable had been pushed up by the Windy Thing out front and if he let the lieutenants get away then they’d just grow increasingly careful and harder to catch.

And with consideration to the lack of paper evidence this particular endeavor involved, he was going to have to catch them with their hands in the cookie jar, so to speak.

The maze of crates around the building were easy enough to navigate through with his previous reconnaissance, but every shadow bumped up the anxiety in his spine over this entire rushed operation. This was dumb. He should have hung back.

No.

Now or never. Mysterion cleared to the back of the building just in time to spot a familiar crook duck out the door clutching a briefcase like his life depended on it. Cliche as it is, that was probably the truth of the matter.

The door clicked again but he decided this was the right timing to make an entrance, rushing down in a flurry of cape. It caught attention but also got torn on a nail as he rushed through knee first.

He’d have to nix the dumb cape.

The man’s startled scream was suffocated under Kenny’s weight and he slammed a fist in his sternum before turning around face to nozzle with his other target, armed to the nails.

“Well, well, Mysterion.” the middle aged criminal taunted, presing the gun firmly against his forehead. “Not so tough if I fire this, are you?”

“Then fire, you pussy.”

Clearly that wasn’t the response that was expected of him, neither was crouching to sweep his legs out from under him. A gunshot rang out but it missed him by a mile. Mysterion took advantage of the panic to grab one of the other guns on his belt, click off the safety, and shoot the target in his kneecap.

Weapon dropped and clutching his bleeding knee, Mysterion turned his weapon on the man with the briefcase, who had since caught his breath but was now holding up his hands in surrender.

“What happened?” Spandex said, heading towards him.

Mysterion didn’t look away from the man, gesturing for him to get on the ground, a command that was obeyed gracelessly. “You should call the police now. They can take it from here.”

Annoyance ticked into the voice of his current ally, “Did you  _ shoot _ someone?”

Mysterion clicked his tongue and lowered the weapon, the wind that picked at his cape all the hint he needed that Mysterious Masked Boy Wonder didn’t approve. “Yes. Now help me tie them up.”

A firm grip on his shoulder whirled him to face fiery eyes, “Don’t boss me around.”

Wow.

They were  _ really _ pretty eyes now that Kenny had a close look at them. The authoritative and confident voice was also more than a little attractive.

Mysterion physically shook away the grip and his own reverie, “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“First we have to stop the bleeding.” Tall, Dark, and Sexy knelt next to the sobbing weapons dealer, pushing away his mini armory and assessing the wound.

“Now who’s being bossy.” Mysterion shot back before he could stop himself and earned another glare.

“He can’t go to trial if he doesn’t live that long.”

He might not go to trial at all, Mysterion wanted to pipe in, this amature hour frontal assault would be used against the prosecutors at every turn. They could only hope that the evidence in that warehouse was so damning that even the methodology it was found in wouldn’t allow it to be ignored.

“Use this.” Mysterion said instead, tossing over a miniature first aid kit. He didn’t particularly want to let go of it and it wasn’t like it would be much help, but he did feel the tinge of duty at being chastised.

His small kindness was barely given a nod as the other hero caught the item and began to work on his patient.

He didn’t particularly fancy accidentally killing anyone. He busied himself with tying up the remaining one and tried not to listen to the groans emanating from the other one.

There was the sounds of sirens growing closer as well, a sure sign that they needed to make themselves scarce as soon as possible.

“There.” Spandex man snapped, sounding altogether too self-satisfied, “He shouldn’t bleed out on the way to the precinct now.” There was a certain touch of accusation in the voice but Mysterion chose to ignore it.

“We should go then,” he said, collecting himself. “The police will be here soon.”

He didn’t expect to feel the wind kick up again, like during the shootout earlier but not towards him. He definitely didn't expect an arm to snake around his waist and lift him without any clear effort.

In fact, he didn’t feel like he was being carried, he felt like he was quite literally weightless. It was strange and reminded him of a telekinetic monster in Kijijoji--

The second that he’d spared for thought, just doing all he could to absorb the moment he’d felt the wind, been lifted, and had a series of alarming thoughts over the matter, all ended in a breath stealing moment of freefall.

Except he wasn’t falling. Mysterion’s eyes shot to the smug expression of the stranger that had lifted him, something in the smirk just  _ screaming _ ‘ _ SEE,  _ this is how it’s  _ done _ !’ without a single word.

Mysterion didn’t really have the ability to comment though, eyes darting back to the earth that was quickly becoming a thing in the distance.

They were  _ flying _ .

Mysterion gasped out the air that had been imprisoned inside him, a sharp sound of terror and elation.

On one hand, this stranger could drop him. Death via fall was never one he fancied. On the other he was pretty sure the momentary fear jostling his system had given him what could be considered a vice like grip on the stranger’s shoulder pads.

“Who  _ are _ you?” He gasped out, unable to stop himself and eyes again trapped within that tremendously cocky expression.

“Kite.” he said, like it was a cool name. Like he’d come up with something truly amazing and Mysterion would have normally made a jab about it, yet in that moment, he couldn’t see a single thing wrong with it.

The feeling of weightlessness finally departed and for one heartstopping moment, Mysterion thought the magic had stopped and he was going to fall to his death with this Kite dude.

A quick assessment of his surroundings told him they’d landed on a roof a ways away from the cops and the chaos, the very same roof he’d retreated to the other night but Mysterion didn’t comment on this, just dislodged himself from Kite’s grip and tried to remember how to be sufficiently menacing.

“That was dumb, going in there like that,” he admonished, trying to remember his actual criticisms. “You should have done more recon. Most of them are just grunts there for the easy money, you need to get the guys up top if you want to make a real change.”

Kite’s eyes were narrowed, and Mysterion realized belatedly he probably should have thanked him for the quick escape rather than criticizing what had turned out to be a rather successful evening.

“I don’t need to take this from you.” Kite frowned, a calculative look crossing his features, “What do you mean the guys on top? There are more?”

Mysterion, for the first time in what had been an adventurously fast evening, questioned precisely how much he should trust a guy he just met.

It’d just been easy. Strangely so. Kenny didn’t work with others, not as a magical girl and not as himself, he spent the majority of his time finding solutions to problems alone. Getting others involved muddled things up.

And in a split second, he’d trusted some guy in spandex to cover the front while he took the back, and who had somewhat seamlessly made up for aspects he lacked. An eye for the little details like blood loss, a reliable and impressive distraction, a quick escape without either one them left with burning muscles.

It was only in the calm evening air, on the roof away from the police sirens and with his mind finally catching up behind the speed of his adrenaline, that he questioned it all.

“Yes,” he said finally, cautiously, “I’ve been investigating this ring for awhile.”

There was a pause where the apprehension within him climbed and he wondered about the other’s intentions.

“Why are you here?” He said, softer than he meant and he hardened his voice for the next question. “What stake do you have in the safety of this town? Why should I trust you with my information.”

Kite’s frown deepened and he crossed his arms like a disapproving mother, “And why should the town trust you with their safety? Who are you? Why are  _ you _ doing this?”

Ah.

Questions could be turned around so easily. Mysterion’s eyes darted away, measuring his answer against the illumination of the moon.

“It’s my town.” he said, “I have to protect it.”

“Maybe you’re not the only one.” Kite shot back. It doesn’t feel like an honest answer but Mysterion files it away anyway. Whatever Kite’s reason was, it seemed to be a bit of a touchy topic.

The wind picks up again and Mysterion knows by now that this is the warning he would get right before Kite did something either breathtaking or stupid, usually both.

His feet aren’t touching the ground, is what Mysterion finds himself hyper focusing on. He was aware that Kite could fly, given the surprise escape from the confines of gravity only moments prior, but he still couldn’t help but stare at the inches between Kite and roof.

“I work alone.” Kite said, without any prompting, and it sounded incredibly lame even to Mysterion’s ears but he still nodded, numbly. Eyes darting between the feet and the face. There was that smug look again. It was a good look on him.

Mysterion rallied, “So do I.”

“Good. We’re agreed. Stay out of my way and--” Kite paused, brows furrowed, as though he hadn’t calculated this sentence quite correctly, “--just, don’t get in my way. You’ll get yourself hurt.”

Mysterion did  _ not _ miss the taunt in the words and he felt his eyebrows fly up.

So Kite wanted to get competitive.

“Sounds fair,” he eased, enjoying the way his words seemed to startle Kite’s worldview, “I’m here to save lives, not play hero.”

It had the desired effect. Perhaps it hit too close to home?

Kite  _ bristled _ , wind swishing about as he rose, and without even a retort, flew away.

Kenny let a giggle escape his stoic facade and watched the hothead fly off who knows where, letting out a low whistle at the sight of exactly how well the costume fit to Kite’s bottom.

Kite seemed like kind of an asshole if he were being honest, yet also dependable in a way that Kenny hadn’t felt since before his parents watched him sign his life away with greedy eyes.

Maybe they’d work together and maybe they wouldn’t.

But he’d be  _ damned _ if he wasn’t going to enjoy the eye candy provided.

\--

Kyle barely remembered to  _ breathe _ until he was safely back in his bedroom, crawling in the expertise that had developed with time, and clutching the backpack containing the evidence of his crime.

_ Crime _ .

The thought finally caught up to him. Vigilantism was a  _ crime _ .

Sure it was easy to just jump in a fray and throw people about willy-nilly, but flying back to some deserted park so he could change in the grossest public bathroom he had witnessed in his entire  _ life _ was not an experience he ever wanted to repeat. But he couldn’t just go home in costume. If someone spotted him...why had he picked green? Why not a color that faded into the night better to avoid that exact problem?!

And Mysterion had saved him from getting  _ shot _ , he’d almost been  _ shot _ . The thought sent a shudder of dread through him. Not even for the potentiality of a coffin in his near future, but rather the unrelenting knowledge that his mom would  _ definitely _ notice a bullet wound and then death would be a  _ reprieve _ from whatever she would cook up for him in response to this.

Oh god, what even was this? He couldn’t even piece that together. It’d been so clear hours ago, get the bad guys and show up that  _ stupid _ hero-wannabe that was making the town turn on its head.

Show the town what a  _ real _ hero looked like.

But then Mysterion had  _ been there _ and shit, Kyle didn’t want to admit he’d been helpful. He didn’t want to admit he’d been seen right through. He didn’t want to admit that it  _ was _ somewhat impressive what the guy could do with no apparent powers.

But Mysterion _ had also been impressed _ ! Kyle felt that was important. He hid the costume as deep in the back of closet as he could, trying to get a handle on the adrenaline induced shakes that were cascading through his body in response to the events.

He’d impressed Mysterion. The ‘hero’ that had the entire town in an uproar and  _ he’d _ shown the guy a thing or two. He’d shown him exactly how the game was played--

That still stung, Kyle felt some of his elation fade to shame. Something about Mysterion’s explanation seemed so  _ sincere _ and it didn’t sound like a guy that was playing hero for kicks or to impress a girl.

And he  _ wasn’t _ doing this to impress a girl.

He just, wondered a lot, if maybe, just maybe, Kenny would have heard about his little adventure and if maybe she was also intrigued by it.

It was just a thought, it wasn’t his primary motivation. He was at least mostly sure of that.

“Holy shit…” He breathed out, trying to catch up and feeling like he was at the top of a cliff and at the bottom with a broken back all at once.

This was a bad decision.

He shouldn't have done this. Probably. He gulped and numbly changed into his nightclothes.

The morning wasn’t much better.

The stuttering of his own anxious heart made it nearly impossible to get sleep. He’d done his best, but the sun peeking in through his curtains still caught him by surprise.

A knock on the door made him physically fall out of his bed. A panicked and deranged thought that  _ this is it, he was recognized, the cops were here for him _ assaulting his brain before his mothers bubbly voice called out.

“Bubbie? Are you coming down for breakfast?”

“Y-yeah!” He tried to ignore the way his voice cracked. There was no going back. His eyes darted to where he knew the backpack was hidden and back to the door concealing his mother.

It didn’t take much for him to decide that he was taking the backpack to school. Leaving it with his mom in the house was a ticking time bomb.

It also didn’t seem like his best idea to bring it to school but among bad ideas, this was the least panic inducing.

His first real disappointment of the day was when he took his phone off his charger and  _ didn’t _ see any excited messages about the ‘new hero’. In fact there was a big fact amount of nothing from anyone.

Obviously it was a bit early to expect people to be spreading the news about him, especially when the only ones that had seen him were crooks and Mysterion. So, crooks, he amended.

But a part of him  _ needed _ that validation. The knowledge that people were watching and interested, that he’d made a splash, that people saw what he could do and their breath was stolen in the same way Mysterion’s had been.

That had to be his favorite part of the night. Picking up the ‘stoic mysterious hero’ and being met with such a wide expanse of shocked blue, lips parted in an unspoken cry of surprise, and expression loosened in surprise.

Ha, take  _ that _ Mysterion. Carry him against his consent, see how  _ he  _ likes it.

It had been such a wonderfully poetic vengeance.

“What has you grinning at nothing?” Ike’s face was scrunched up and Kyle schooled his expression, unsure if he’d been grinning at all but determined to hide whatever Ike had thought was weird enough to comment on.

“Nothing.”

He looked away from his brother guiltily. He should tell him. They didn’t have any secrets between them since…well, since they’d figured out that secrets weren’t going to help either of them. Since they figured out they weren’t exactly crazy.

And it would be pretty obvious to Ike Kite’s ‘true’ identity with just one look at what he could do.

He didn’t want to though. He didn’t want to tell anyone.

And he had a sneaking suspicion that Ike would read every single petty thought he was trying to keep hidden.

He avoided Ike for the rest of the morning, rushing to school as soon as time would allow. It caused him to rush out of the house just a touch earlier than usual. That was the only explanation he could conceive of as to why this had never occurred before.

Because on the sidewalk in front of his house, walking without a care in the world and talking to a smaller girl that Kyle faintly recognized, was the source of a full half of his stress.

Kenny had something especially animated about her this morning, fiddling with the younger girls pig-tails as they walked in a distinctly sisterly way. Kyle allowed common sense to fill in that particular blank, still frozen in front of his house and debating the pros and cons of jogging up to her to see if they could walk to school together.

Pros: walk to school with Kenny. Talk to Kenny more. Get to know Kenny’s probable sister, maybe get her as an ally. The possibility that Kenny had in fact heard about Kite and that was what had put a skip in her step this morning.

Cons: The high possibility of rejection and embarrassment.

The girls had turned a corner, completely oblivious to his gaze, long before he’d finished this internal struggle. Also he could hear the signs of his brother preparing to go within the house and that was a whole other panic. He jogged along, hoping to create a believable distance between himself and the opening door, and mentally calculated a new piece of information.

If Kenny and her sister were crossing in front of his house, they probably lived close, he was right on the edge of tow--

Kyle paused, turning back to look at the train tracks that quite literally separated the town into two categories. The ones he’d unthinkingly crossed for a nightly adventure but couldn’t imagine living down.

The direction the pair had come from could  _ really _ have only been from beyond the tracks.

Something small nudged him aside roughly, “How do you manage to leave before me but still be stuck less than a block away?” Ike grumbled, uncaring at whatever turmoil had Kyle acting like a crazy person this morning and continuing his own trudge to school.

Kyle didn’t even have the heart to respond, eyes still locked on the horizon of trash that marked the side of town that his mother warned him about.

The side of town where gunshots had rung out just the night before and Kyle felt a tight anxiety in his gut at that. Mysterion had been right, jumping like that had been foolish and reckless. It only takes one stray bullet to hit a person that just happened to live in a poorer circumstance.

He’d been thinking with his ego. Shame flooded him in one waterfall of emotion and he looked away.

He’d be more careful. He couldn’t put people in danger just because he wanted to prove something. That was exactly what he had accused Mysterion of and it burned his mind to know he was equally guilty.

Perhaps more so.

Even after he tore his gaze away from the homes he’d potentially endangered not a night prior, and made his way to the high school, the pit in his stomach only grew.

He should have told Ike. Ike would have been able to see all these dumb pitfalls before he’d done anything dumb. He hadn’t wanted to be told he was wrong though, so he’d kept it all to himself.

He resolved to tell Ike everything after school.

“Morning, dude.” Stan’s cheerful greeting and nudge into his personal space was unwelcome in the gloom that was Kyle’s thoughts and he tried to give even a ghost of a smile in response. Whatever had Stan so energetic in the morning apparently blinded him to his friends obvious unease as he continued talking, “Ready to take on the day?”

“...Sure.” Kyle muttered, tired of the sight of his own shoes but looking up seemed worse.

It was too early in the morning for a rollercoaster of emotions. He just wanted a simple morning after committing a crime where he didn’t have to deal with all this  _ guilt _ and unease.

“Still upset over yesterday?” Stan said, finally catching some of the gloom.

Kyle started, staring at his friend with wide eyes and a pounding heard, “Yesterday?!”

Stan’s face quirked to the side in confusion, “Yeah, man, that entire thing with Kenny?”

“Oh.” Kyle breathed again, “Yeah.”

Great. Another thing he didn’t want to think about now on the forefront of his brain.

“Kyle still pouting?” David’s voice cut-in, thankfully not invading his space.

Kyle rallied, just a bit, “I’m not pouting. I’m just-- I had trouble sleeping last night.”

It was, objectively, true. Just omitting a lot of reasons why.

Apparently the reasons why were unnecessary as his friends were more than capable, nay happy, to fill in those blanks themselves.

“There’s no use worrying yourself into insomnia over it.” David said, “You barely know her anyway. Maybe if you actually got to know her, you’d figure out the two of you weren’t a great match after all.”

Kyle didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“Yeah,” Stan piped in, also ever helpful, “She seems kind of snobby to me, to be honest. Every time I see her, she shoots me a glare. Like I did something to personally upset her.”

David frowned thoughtfully, “Well, did you? Because she doesn’t do that to me.”

“Dude, she literally  _ just _ moved to town. What could I have possibly done to upset her in such a short span of time?”

“I dunno, but I do know you’re a bit oblivious. Actually, take out the ‘bit’.”

“Or maybe she’s a snob,” Stan grumbled, “I’m not oblivious. Kyle, am I oblivious?”

“Guys, I have a headache.” Kyle said, “I’m going to go on ahead, okay?”

He didn’t want to hear them speculate that Kenny was a bitch and he didn’t want to hear about how Kenny didn’t seem to have any issue at all with David when she wouldn’t give Stan or Kyle the time of day.

And it was a touch upsetting, despite it all, that not a soul seemed to be talking about the new hero on the scene. He regretted his actions but he also wanted to be recognized for them. It was a strange but consuming emotion that he couldn’t shake off, no matter how he tried.

He’d barely made it a foot away from his puzzled friends before a long crackling noise powered through the speakers throughout the school. It was initially surprising because they didn’t normally have morning announcements.

It quickly morphed into something more distressing as a scream rang out over the speakers before a somewhat deranged voice spoke into the them.

**“Greetings, South Park High! Today is your lucky day!”**

Kyle didn’t recognize the voice but it filled him with an anxiety he couldn’t name. He turned back to his friends who looked as confused and apprehensive as he felt.

**“My name is Professor Chaos and due to** **_some criminals_ ** **disrupting a very important transaction last night, I’ll be taking over your school to make up for my losses.”**

Kyle was suddenly aware that the doors he’d crossed only moments ago were closed, and it didn’t seem like the students closest were able to get them open.

**“Welcome to my chaotic prison.”**

This was not the sort of recognition he’d been hoping for.


	5. Chapter 5

The other shoe dropped.

It’s a strange turn of phrase, the way it works into the back of the mind, a spare thought for how the world can change at the drop of a hat. It’s only when you remove your mind from a given language for long enough that you can truly consider these small and confusing phrases.

If one shoe drops, there’s that anticipation for the second one. It’s a given that the second one will be the harbinger of misfortune.

Kenny felt like there were a countless ‘other’ shoes that dropped in his presence. One minute he’s feeling rather satisfied over his previous evening and the next he’s locked into a hostage situation with some psycho calling himself Chaos.

And Kenny hadn’t brought his uniform. Not that it would matter, only a complete idiot would change into their alternate identity in a situation like this. It would broadcast to the entire student body and any other interested parties that one only needed to observe the narrow subject pool of the school to find out the identity. After that it would only be a matter of time and wits.

Still, he felt oddly defenseless as the students around him entered various stages of apathy and panic. He couldn’t change into a magical princess that solved problems with a flick of her wrist and he couldn’t change into a menacing figure of darkness that crawled across the night. He was just Kenny who died more than he did much of anything else.

Just Kenny who was small and ridiculous.

It was a suffocating moment in time when that shoe dropped and he truly felt the weight of the situation brought upon by foolishness. Arms dealers. The people that had been attacked last night were _arms_ dealers. Which meant that this Professor Chaos and whoever else may be working at his side could be heavily _armed_.

It was following that moment that he spotted an intimidating figure at the end of the hall. He wasn’t the only one, some students saw and had already entered even more impressive stages of panic.

The man was boasting a rather horrific looking weapon. Kenny wouldn’t be able to say the make or model of it, but it looked strange. Large and a gleaming silver that reflected excessively even in the dim light of the school hallway.

A student let out a gasp like scream, as if choked from terror, and the sound clenched at Kenny’s heart.

 _No_.

This was his school. _His_ town. They couldn’t do this. They couldn’t come in and hurt _his_ classmates. There’s a foolish sort of strength in determination, and it was in that moment that Kenny felt it pulsating through him.

“Into the classroom!”

He hardly recognized his own voice. It wasn’t in the docile tones he used for ‘Kenny’, the deep gruff of ‘Mysterion’, or the falsetto of the ‘Princess’.

It was a clear voice that demanded the attention of the students and the lone man at the end of the hall. He began to approach, not raising his weapon quite yet but there was a grim determination to his step that convinced Kenny that there was a distinct possibility that he could at any moment.

 **“Don’t fight the Chaos** \--” Kenny had barely even realized the psycho was still monologuing over the intercom, **“--embrace your futures. For the next few hours you are all** **_grounded_ ** **.”** There was something especially sinister in the way he said the last word and Kenny resisted a shudder, opening a classroom door and guiding the remaining students inside, putting his body between the minion of Chaos and the students entering.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the weapon rise but Annie hadn’t quite made it in. Kenny held his breath, spreading his arms out in preparation for what he hoped wouldn’t go straight through him and to the girl behind him.

A gale of wind rampaged through the hall and Kenny’s eyes bulged, watching as it sent the minion flying and his weapon fired uselessly at the ceiling, releasing a strange pink goo.

A hand touched his shoulder but he didn’t need to turn to know who it was. A heart stopping second and he wondered if perhaps this was Kite out of costume but a quick turn confirmed that spandex was still hugging the muscles of the dumbass.

He shouldn’t have changed here. It was dumb. So dumb. Why did he consistently make such foolish short sighted moves?

Kenny let out the breath that had lodged itself in his throat, smiling despite himself for just a moment. At the very least, he was a dumbass that had great timing.

Annie made a distressed sound and that snapped him out of the momentary reverie, attention firmly back in the here and now as he helped her to her feet and guided her into the classroom with the others.

“Barricade the door,” he commanded, “don’t let _anyone_ in.”

 **“I know that when you feel lost and the world creeps its horrible tendrils of rules around your neck, you long for chaos to release you. To experience the freedom of** **_anarchy_ ** **!”**

“You should be in there too.” Kite admonished, hand still resting on his shoulder and nudging ever so slightly.

Kenny scoffed, the thought alone was insulting, “I got shit to handle first.” He nodded to Annie and closed the classroom door, shrugging off the very comfortable hand, “We have to get into the broadcasting room. If this ‘Professor Chaos’ dude or whatever is the leader, then taking him down might cause these other assholes to retreat.”

Somewhere in the panic, Kenny had all but forgotten that Kite hadn’t the slightest clue who he was and therefore wasn’t about to agree to this plan.

Kite looked pained, “You should stay hidden, you can’t--”

Kenny turned away and marched down the hall towards the still knocked over minion, pink goop from the ceiling had dripped down and kept him apparently pinned to the ground, “I can. I will. This is _my_ school.”

“Chaos is invincible! You will all fall before him!” The grown ass man cried struggling against the goop and trying to reach his fallen weapon, restrained only a few inches out of reach. Kenny picked it up with ease, and aimed at the man’s legs to make sure he stayed put.

Hm, it was a weird weapon, but Kenny was pretty sure he could figure it out. He ignored the strangled sound that Kite made at the sight of him fiddling with the strange gun.

“No one’s invincible, asshole.” Kenny lowered the weapon and looked over to the clearly astonished Kite, “You coming, spandex man?”

Kite gulped visibly and jogged to catch up with Kenny as he made his way down the uncomfortably empty halls. The other students had either been captured or hidden, Kenny felt a sting of worry for Stan. Angry as he might be, he didn’t want anything to happen to his childhood friend.

“Call me Kite.”

Kenny nodded absently, peering over a corner suspiciously but there was no sign of any other minions. The speakers crackled to life and another spew of chaotic nonsense came forth, “I’ll call you sweet-cheeks if I want.” Kenny assured, “But sure, Kite works too I guess.”

“You’re…really used to this.” Kite’s voice was pensive and that was when it really occurred to Kenny that he was perhaps being a bit too obvious. Shit.

He didn’t have time to absorb that information. Two cronies turned a corner not a yard ahead of them, one shooting the goop on sight. Kenny didn’t have time to dodge but Kite had plenty of time to do his bizarre windy thing, sending the goop to stick to the lockers.

**“--and in the wake of that disappointment, there is freedom. A light at the end of the tunnel.”**

“General! We have intrud--” Kenny decided that letting them talk into walkie-talkies was what one could consider a bad movie and sprang forth, sending a kick square into the stomach of the talking man and spun to kick the other in the head. He hit air. Kite apparently having sent the man to the ground.

Kenny didn’t spare even a moment for consideration and shot the goop at both of them. One stuck to the ground and the other to a wall.

“Idle chit chat can wait until after we’ve dealt with the situation.” Kenny remarked, hoisting the gun over his shoulder and leaning down to pick up one of the walkie-talkies.

 _“Chaos minion 43, come in.”_ the voice coming through wasn’t the same voice as over the intercom and the information within it made Kenny’s blood run cold. There were potentially up to forty-three of these assholes inside the school. Could he take on forty-three assmunchers armed only with a strange goop that had god knows what side effects? When at this point there might even be hostages involved?

**“Rules only create loneliness. Gaps for us to fall through and be forgotten, left in the behind to feel a pain that can only be healed through discarding the chains that restrain you. You can be free. You don’t need to be lonely.”**

A gentle wind brushed his cheek and his stomach flipped.

He wasn’t alone.

He tucked the walkie-talkie into his jacket pocket, listening to see if any important information was shared and continuing to make cautious progress through the hall.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“Why should I reveal any information to the stupid Chaos cult?” He shrugged. “And if they don’t know the channel’s been compromised they might provide more information.”

Kite’s mouth formed an ‘o’ and Kenny smiled at that. It was cute.

“You’re _really_ good at this.” There was a certain amount of awe in his voice, Kenny tried not to let the fluttery feeling in his stomach explode at the praise. He didn’t get praise like that often. “What did you say your name was, dollface?”

There was something familiar about the swagger to those words that Kenny couldn’t place, he found himself letting out a small snigger over them though. ‘Dollface’, who the hell said that unironically?

It didn’t really help the flip flops that threatened to bloom into butterflies in his stomach.

“Kenny.” They were getting pretty close to the broadcasting room now but the fact that they hadn’t run into even one cowering or hidden student was sending him on edge, “I don’t take kindly to assholes like these ‘round here.” he let the full drawl come out for the last bit, enjoying the way Kyle’s expression flickered.

“Kenny!” Kite yelled, surging forth.

There was the sound of something dropping and Kenny had no time to respond before Kite pushed him back against the lockers, barely a thought spared before an explosion of light threatened to blind him if not for the actual meatshield.

His heart actually stuttered with momentary terror.

He’d never had someone bodily block him from harm before and he didn’t like it. He hated it. It was the worst. Terror ripped through him that he’d caused someone to die.

“Are you alright?”

Oh, wow, Kite’s voice was very close indeed, Kenny blinked up into intensely green eyes and found himself lost for a split second.

This unbelievable idiot had put himself in danger on Kenny’s behalf.

It was motherfucking heroic. What the actual shit.

Kenny pushed him away and raised the weapon, kicking away the flash bomb and sending a shot of goop at the group that were already firing as well.

The goops met in the middle of the hall, a seeming standstill if not for the wind that picked it up and pushed all of it towards the three.

“Don’t protect me.” Kenny warned, eyeing the minions carefully to ensure they were indeed trapped, “It’s dangerous!”

Kite smirked and it was a terrible moment where Kenny felt like he’d been read through in an awful way, “Don’t worry about me, Dollface.” there was definite capitalization there, Kenny could _hear_ it, “I’m sturdy.”

“So am I.” Kenny assured. He felt like there was an innuendo that could have been made but wit escaped him in the remainders of fear that had clutched him.

What if it had been an actual bomb and Kite’s flesh had been ripped away in an explosion because he was stupid enough to protect a boy that couldn’t die?

Kite whistled, low and impressed, “I don’t doubt that. But what kind of person would I be if I let you get hurt?”

“A living one.”

The radio buzzed to life, _“Gather all units to the gymnasium. We have a rat.”_

Kenny considered this.

The radio hadn’t given out anything after asking about good ol’ number forty-three. There was a high chance this was a trap.

_“We’ll have to show the media we’re serious. Prepare one of the students.”_

“Motherfucker.” Kenny cursed, “Hey, Sweet-cheeks, know any shortcuts to the gym?”

Kite nodded, cautiously, “This could be a tra--”

“Duh. That’s why I’m sending you.” Kite blinked owlishly and Kenny felt his lips turn upwards in a grin, “We still need someone to check the broadcasting room but we can’t risk a student getting hurt. Thus, we split up. There’s likely to be a larger group in the gym for an ambush and your weird windy thing works better against large groups than my own lone weapon.”

There was definite awe in Kite’s expression now, something unsure filtering through his eyes, “Who _are_ you?”

Kenny's lips tilted into a slow grin. "Your worst nightmare."

Kite blinked.

"Sorry," Kenny mutters turning away with a hint of a giggle. "I always wanted to say that."

 **“Who here hasn’t found the unmatched sock more appealing than a meticulously divided drawer? Why limit oneself to what little can be gained through that organization when there is** **_greatness_ ** **waiting for you.”**

“For real though, let’s just consider me a concerned citizen.” Kenny quirked a smirk, “Nothing special.”

“Babe, calling you anything less than special would be a crime worthy of capital punishment.”

Holyshit, this guy really did the nickname thing. Kenny gulped, it was a lot easier to keep cool around the very attractive mystery asshole when he was being all surly to Mysterion. This suave as fuck shit was going to actually melt his brain.

“Well, we’ll see.” Kenny quirked his head towards the general direction of the gym, “Now hurry up, we don’t know who they’re going to target.”

There was hesitation in Kite’s eyes, it was pretty obvious he didn’t want to leave Kenny to whatever awaited in the eerily empty halls, but he gave a once over before taking Kenny’s hand in a firm grip.

“Stay safe.” He squeezed and Kenny felt his heart do the same, “Please.”

There was something so earnest in the request. Kenny couldn’t quite find it in him to snark in return. It probably wasn’t in his best interest to stay silent because Kite used the silence as an opportunity to do the unthinkable.

This motherfucker.

Planted a kiss.

On Kenny’s knuckle.

A touch of pink was all Kenny saw before the wind swept Kite away in an embarrassed rush.

He stood in the hall alone for a distracted moment too long, staring in complete shock at his hand and back to where the hero had departed.

Holyshit.

 _Holyshit_.

He was _not_ equipped to handle this. Not by a long shot. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

**“It is by Chaos that we learn how to deal with the many roadblocks in life--”**

Right. The monologuing idiot in the broadcasting room.

Kenny tried, with all his might to care more about the lunatic ranting about chaos than he did the faint sensation of soft lips grazing his knuckles.

Nope. Not possible.

He was going to have to beat the _crap_ out of this Chaos asshole for setting these events into motion. There was no other solution. Because Kenny didn’t know the first thing about handling this insane situation and Chaos had caused far too much trouble.

Kenny whirled and found himself face to face with a beanpole in a gleaming silver helmet.

“Found the rat.” Kenny could barely see the trace of a rather disturbed smile under the helmet, “You’ve been awfully troublesome, ya know that? By golly, I’d be inclined to call you naughty.”

 **“And by Chaos--”** the same voice echoed over the speakers. A recording.

Kenny knew he didn’t have time to lift the large weapon into position, so he rammed forward, using the force of the combined weight to knock Chaos backwards a step. It was more than enough to get a solid start on a counter attack and probably would have worked great.

That is, if he didn’t feel the prick of a needle in his neck. Something entered his system.

“ _Fu--_ ”

A gloved hand clamped over his mouth, an admonishing finger wagging back and forth in front of his blurring vision, “Ah, ah, ah. Language.”

Kenny was going to beat the actual fuck out of this asshole.

First, however, his vision closed up and consciousness faded.

\---

Kyle’s entire _being_ thrummed with anxious energy. Not the least of which entirely fueled by the dumbstruck and decidedly flustered expression he’d earned from the seemingly unflappable girl he’d left.

He still didn’t like the plan. It was risky and stupid. He only accepted because he realized that it would mean that Kenny wouldn’t be in the middle of the likely most dangerous area in the school. He’d been given the more dangerous mission, he swelled a bit with pride at the thought. Kenny trusted him with the harder task.

Kenny was something else entirely.

Using her body to protect a student, picking up a weapon, and barking orders like a commander. There was definitely more to Kenny than met the eye.

It only fascinated Kyle further. He wanted to know everything. Wanted to know what experiences had led her to be so cool under a near death situation. And how it was that she was so even tempered and quick thinking when most other students were busy cowering. He could see them all within his mind’s eye, hiding in classrooms that he passed, holding their collective breaths when scuffles ensued.

Those were questions for another time though. For now he’d have to find out what was happening in the gym. He felt a pang of guilt that he’d left David and Stan to fend for themselves so that he’d be able to change. The fear that one of them might be used as an ‘example’ propelled him forward faster and he barely felt the ground under his feet in the rush.

He had to make it to the gym in time. No one could get hurt for his foolish rash behavior. He would be worse than Mysterion. He had to fix this.

The gym doors came into view seconds before the men standing guard at either side did. Kyle sent a gust of wind towards them, weaker than his last few but it was enough to hold them back while he rushed through the doors.

He realized his error immediately upon entering.

There were a lot of students, sure, but not even one sign of guards inside.

Shit.

The door slammed shut, he turned barely in time to see the pink goop edge through the cracks. Effectively trapping them all in.

“Son of a bitch…”

He shouldn’t have rushed like an idiot. Running on adrenaline and pink emotions rather than using _skills_ he possessed to actually map out the area. Every decision he made lately was short sighted and hot headed.

“...Umm… who are you?”

Kite’s eyes snapped away from the door and onto Wendy who stood in front of a group of distressed looking students, and seemed to be acting as a representative. In addition to that, judging from the position of her hand in her pocket, she was also ready to mace him if she didn’t like what she heard.

“I’m Kite. I’m here to save you guys.”

A snort from the crowd of teens, Wendy voiced the concern with her normal eloquence and raised brow, “By getting trapped in here as well?”

Kite frowned. Sure, he could easily admit to himself that this had been a foolhardy and stupid way to go about this but hearing it from someone else was a whole other _thing_.

His eyes raked over the students to see if he spotted Stan or David but among the sea of familiar faces, none were his close friends. A nagging worry developed even more prominently in his gut. Another regret for his list, he shouldn’t have left his friends to fend for themselves.

He looked back to Wendy who was still poised to strike at the first sign of danger, he felt a little insulted that she probably wouldn’t be acting like this if he was everyone’s favorite Mysterion. But could _Mysterion_ blow the door off its hinges? Probably not.

“Trust me. I’ve got this.”

The welling temptation within took form and he could already feel the energy cracking around him before he stopped himself.

Every move he’d made thus far had been random emotion based dribble. Rush to show up Mysterion, rush to save the school, rush to save the students--he’d not once paused to use his damn brain and it was going to start costing people if he didn’t slow down.

Kenny had been able to handle the situation so well because she understood this. She didn’t run down the halls even when they seemed empty, always peering around corners ahead of time and sticking to easily defendable positions.

He could do that.

Tension left his shoulders and he looked down at Wendy, “What can you tell me about them?”

“Hm?” Something in her posture quirked curiously, “About who?”

Kite gestured towards the door, “The guys that locked you in here. I can blow open that door but it’s not going to do us a lot of good if I walk you guys straight into danger.”

Wendy had the familiar twinkle she got when she was intrigued, usually by an interesting academic challenge, “The guys that herded us in here had large silver weapons, I have no idea what they’re supposed to do but they don’t look like they’re designed to fire bullets. I thought I spotted some more conventional weapons on one of their belts though, so I don’t think guns or bombs are off the table.”

Kite nodded, it was mostly information he’d already gathered.

“There were four that led us in here. They all wear the same insignia as well on that stupid uniform with those bizarre guns. Between that and the weirdo who keeps spouting nonsense about armageddon over the speakers along with a load of bullshit that sounds a lot like a recruitment pitch,” Wendy rolled her eyes over a wide arch, clearly she wasn’t a fan, “And I’m pretty inclined to think that they’re some kind of insane anarchist cult.”

Four men. Kite frowned at the door. He’d only seen the two when he’d blown in here. They had to have figured out he could probably blow through the door if they’d talked to their fallen comrades…

Kite took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused.

Heartbeats. Scattered across students and mixed with emotions of dismay, fear, and hope. He reached out of the door and there were six different heartbeats. Calm, methodical, prepared, and lined in front of the door.

They were going to wait for him to blow through like an idiot and take him down using the goop.

“Hey, you in there?” Wendy’s voice was somewhere between annoyance and concern.

He opened his eyes and took another deep, calming breath, “I think they might be planning to use the students for some sort of PR stunt. They mentioned bringing in the media.” He felt the spike of alarm from the crowd more than he saw it, “Are there any other ways out of here? I can’t just leave you guys.”

Wendy gestured towards a side door that also had pink sticking in the edges. A cursory reach with his mind found more guards out there. He knew that door was there, but the entire room felt strange. How could he get all the students to safety and still escape to help Kenny?

“Not unless you can blow a hole in the ceiling. We’ve got two exits and none of us are gonna fit in the vents.”

He knew Wendy meant this with the height of sarcasm but he couldn’t resist the level to which he wanted to give her a hug and praise her for being a damn genius.

He really needed to think outside the box more often.

“Hey!” He called to the huddling students, “Move away from the bleachers, I need those!”

More than one eye blinked at him in owlish confusion while not a single body twitched, luckily Wendy saddled up next to him, “You heard spandex man here! Move your asses!”

“...I already said my name is Kite,” he muttered mostly to himself, was the spandex _really_ the only thing people noticed?

The students scattered at Wendy’s command, sans Leslie who took her sweet time as if moving in some strange sort of defiance that Kite wasn’t even going to begin trying to untangle.

It was a strange moment though, watching Leslie leisurely move away from the structure. In a way, her strange question all that time ago had triggered a lot of his current actions.

And here she was. Right before he showed the entire school what he could _really_ do and yet...he couldn’t help but wonder, _was_ he happy?

She finally moved out of range and he got to work, there was no point letting himself get distracted now, in these delicate moments where he _needed_ to use his brain.

He focused on the bleachers, eyes closed and _pulled_.

The ground screeched in disapproval and he tried rather unsuccessfully to mute the sound with his mind. It was no matter though, the guards might hear the noises but they couldn’t get in without removing their stupid goop.

He twisted the frame, straining with the weight, only barely hearing the startled expletive the Wendy let out and echoed by the crowd, he twist the metal again and again and again and finally snapped his eyes open, panting from the strain.

“ _How_ …?” Wendy looked at a complete loss, staring at the sloppy stairs made out of excessive property damage. Kite felt a bit guilty, repairs to the gym were probably going to delay their next basketball game. Girl’s volleyball as well. He sent Wendy a mental apology before walking to the ruined bleachers and gesturing for the others to follow.

“It’s stairs to the roof but you’re not really gonna…” Wendy began.

Kite made his way to the top quicker than necessary in his overeagerness to show off even further, despite the amount of strain that was starting to bare down on him.

He’d never used his powers this much before. He’d practiced with Ike all summer and learned to do some neat shit. But gunman one night and a school hostage situation the next? He didn’t really have the stamina for this yet.

He thought of how small Kenny’s hand had felt despite her confidence and reached the ceiling. He wanted to keep the damage minimal and quiet here. If he let the guards know the kids were escaping through the roof it would all be rather moot.

The hole wasn’t hard to create, a gust of wind extended from him that blew straight through the roof and shook the foundation of his ladder. He swayed dangerously, a dizzy spell taking hold. Wendy caught him, barely an inch from losing his balance.

“Thanks.” he smiled just a bit.

She gave him her own smile, “Anytime, superboy.”

“ _Kite_.” He corrected, climbing onto the roof and helping her up.

The students didn’t waste much time clambering up after that, freedom into the light of day a temptation that quickly had the entire crowd on the roof of the gym.

“Is everyone up?” Kite tried to make his voice carry without being too loud, weary of the guards below.

There was a nod of consensus but Kite still peeked down into the empty gym just to be sure. Then, with another focused _push_ he collapsed the would-be stairs down to half height.

Of course, with that, his breath suddenly felt tighter and something about the light was making him even more light-headed.

“Uh, Kite?”

“What?”

Wendy was pointing towards the school with a pale face, “ _Stan_!”

Kite whipped his head towards the rooftop of the school and there it was. A figure in a helmet, a smaller one with a camera, and Stan Marsh being dangled over the edge over some safety railing. Not struggling.

He saw red.

He shot towards them without even a moment's hesitation.

He hadn’t even made it there before Stan had been brought back over the safety railing and flung to the rooftop. He was in ear shot when he barely heard the man say _golly_ in the angriest voice that Kite had ever heard.

And then, when he was close enough to land, he spotted Kenny’s unconscious form leaning against the edge of the roof farthest from the man that had attacked Stan.

God, he hoped she was just unconscious. Please.

 _Please_.

Stan was coughing and trying to sit up, “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Hey!” Kite landed between Stan and the man in the helmet, “Don’t pick on emo kids!”

He enjoyed the disgruntled _hey_ that got him from Stan a bit too much. It meant that he was still okay enough to be upset over petty shit.

Kite tried to calm the throbbing anger inside him, reminding himself again and again that whoever this asshole was and whatever unforgivable bullshit he was pulling, keeping an even temper would be key to getting everyone out of the situation in one piece.

He was faintly aware that the one holding the camera was now pointing it towards him.

“Aw gee, we have another guest!” The helmeted man sounded almost giggly, it sent shivers down Kite’s spine as he recognized the voice from the speakers in the school. “That just won’t do, don’t ya know it’s rude to just jump in like that?”

“It’s also rude to hang people over the edge of buildings!” Kite shot back, aware it wasn’t his wittiest reporte, “Who the fuck _are_ you? Why are you doing this.”

The man held out his arms in a grand gesture, smiling benevolently in the shadow of his silver helmet, “I’m Professor Chaos. I assume you’re here to foolishly attempt to put an end to my reign? And who do you think you are to attempt something so brazen?”

“Kite.” he said shortly, trying to subtly assess if there were any traps waiting. There didn’t seem to be any other minions up here other than the one with the camera who showed absolutely no interest in getting involved.

This guy seemed way too calm in the circumstance though.

He let his eyes dart to Kenny, trying to catch a sign of life.

“What do you want? What are you hoping to _prove_ with this shit?”

“I want the world to know Chaos.” Something warped in his smile, “And how it is the only salvation from your petty world of agony.”

There was just something _broken_ in this man. Kite could _feel_ it as well as see it.

His eyes flickered to Kenny for the third time, just to be sure he wasn’t imagining the subtle rise and fall of her chest.

It was the wrong move.

“Ah, I see you’re worried about the rat we found.” Chaos snapped his gloved hand, a feat that puzzled Kite more than anything else he’d run into today, “General Disarray! If you would.”

The camera was placed onto the roof gently, Kite’s eyes widened and he realized a moment too late.

The cameraman had been edging towards Kenny’s prone form for awhile. Kite had been stationary, still positioned between Chaos and Stan.

‘General Disarray’ showed not even a thought for what he was doing as in one even smooth motion he sent Kenny over the side of the roof.

“ _Kenny_!”

He didn’t know if he’d ever moved so quickly in his life.

He knew he could make things float but the experiments he’d had with pencils had resulted in circular holes in his walls that were now surreptitiously hidden by posters. So, suffice to say, using it on a person seemed out of the question.

But this school was only three stories.

She’d hit the ground in no time.

He reached out with his mind, already tipping over the edge of the roof and trying to catch what was already so far out of reach.

Float. Stop. Slow down.

His eyes burned.

How did he keep making these mistakes? How was it he couldn’t manage to use his powers without causing more people to get hurt?

How could he save her? She was too close to the ground. Too close.

The world felt slow through the wind and _finally_ he grabbed hold with his mind where his hands couldn’t reach.

What he felt wasn’t what he expected.

One of the many things he had trained to do was to block out the temptation to use whatever strange cause for his powers to feel the people around him. It struck him as a gross invasion of privacy.

He never felt for Kenny before, despite every temptation.

He had felt Ike before though. And his mother, Stan and David once or twice.

He’d never _gripped_ a person before but he was sure this wasn’t like gripping a person.

There was something _moving in her skin_ . Like a million eyes that suddenly locked on him in the last decisive moment. A million eyes and _creatures_ creeping closer, like a beacon had been lit.

His heart nearly stopped but he maintained his grip and shot forth, wrapping his actual arms around Kenny and shooting upwards, just in time to avoid a spray of pink goop that came from the ground troops.

He didn’t stop at the rooftop, shooting higher and higher until finally he felt some of the unease peel away, horror still crawling against the corners of his skin.

There was something _inside_ Kenny.

No.

He shook his head.

He’d imagined it. He had to. It was just the sheer panic of almost losing Kenny. That was all. He’d been so scared he’d focused too hard.

He gripped the girl tighter, pulling her into a distressed hug.

“Thank god you’re okay.”

She stirred and he pushed her back, trying to adjust his hold into something more reasonable but also secure.

Arms wrapped around his neck and he looked into bleary blue eyes more expansive than the sky around them. “Is there a reason I’m god knows how high up in the air right now?”

Kite gulped, putting a arm under her legs and beginning to descend, “Chaos--he...shit happened, okay?”

She nodded, resting her forehead against him, “Okay.” she smiled, soft around the edges, “I could do with waking up like this more often.”

“Anytime you want, KenDoll.”

She giggled, “Did you take care of that Chaos asshole then?”

Whoops.

His expression apparently told more than words could because Kenny’s gaze finally focused into that same hard concentration from the school, a hardened determination forged in ice.

“Are the students safe?”

Kite gasped and began to descend with more intent, thoughts of Stan being tossed over the roof while he fucked around in the sky tormenting his mind. “He has Stan Marsh!”

Kenny’s grip around his neck tightened, “Get us down there _now_!”

Kite didn’t need any encouragement. They weren’t terribly far up but it still felt like an eternity before they could hear the arguing from the roof. Disarray had lifted the abandoned camera and Chaos was bearing down on Stan who, in true Stan fashion, was pinching the bridge of his nose.

They landed with more force than necessary. Kite flinched, he’d be feeling that in his knees for a while to come, but he put down Kenny and decided that right now, in this exact instant, he didn’t really need Kite.

Not mild mannered Kyle either who had great grades and didn’t get into fights.

His body roared force with every memory of every fist fight he’d ever gotten into and he rushed a shocked Chaos with a punched that sent the man crashing to the ground, “ _And stay down, ya cabbage_!”

An electrical current swept over him and Kite had only a moment to back away from the crackling lightning. His eyes widened at the crouched professor, trying to find the source of the power surge.

“Now that wasn’t all that friendly.” Chaos admonished, standing with a sway to the left and a bleeding lip that still smiled, “Careful, or I’ll be _awfully_ sore with you.”

The time for careful tactical considerations flew away and Kite sent a slice of wind at the lightning. He could spot some sort of device in the creep’s hand but he wasn’t sure it was the source.

Chaos swayed in the wind but surged forward regardless. Kite decided to send a kick to his midsection. It worked to slow him down but the electricity crackled through him and Kite was momentarily paralyzed while a hand grabbed his head and slammed him to the ground head first.

Breath came short and he tried to see from the sudden spots invading his vision. The exhaustion from earlier caught up to him in one go and he was reminded in a crippling way of the last time he’d lost a fight.

Looking up at the sky and feeling hopeless.

A blur of orange flew over him.

Some semblance of his mind regained control and he looked over to the struggling forms of Chaos and Kenny. The device had been knocked from his grip and the crackle of electricity was long gone but Kite still felt immobilized by the currents that coursed through him.

He could hear a struggle over to the side and he realized with sheer panic that it was probably Disarray and Stan.

He couldn’t turn his head yet though and Stan was out of his line of sight.

It could have only been a few seconds but they were the longest seconds he’d ever felt, agonizing over every moment that he was stuck on the ground with a throbbing head while others fought.

Kenny got Chaos to the ground in the tussle, straddling him after a well-placed knee, and brought an elbow down on his head with a ferocity that made Kite feel a shard of concern for Chaos.

The cry that pierced the air after the event didn’t help.

There was something so _young_ about it. Like perhaps Chaos wasn’t quite old enough to be a professor. It carried shock and hurt through the air like knives.

It was so _painful_.

Chaos pushed Kenny backwards with a burst of strength and she landed on Kite’s prone form. Over the top of her hair, Kite could see that Chaos’ eye was bleeding.

Oh god, Kenny had broken of a shard of the helmet with her blow and it had landed square into the man's eye.

He couldn’t tell from this distance how deep.

“General _Disarray_!” Chaos called, pain coating his voice as he stumbled backwards, “We’re getting out of here!”

Disarray rushed away from whatever had occurred with Stan and Kite still felt utter dread over what it could have been. Disarray had a new split lip though so it looked like it had gone well on Stan’s end.

Kite finally found movement and tried to shoot forward to the retreating figures.

Kenny’s hand shot out and grabbed his bicep firmly, “Let them go.”

“ _But_ \--!” It felt wrong, letting them get away when they were on the defensive, it wasn’t how you won wars. Kenny shook her head out of the corner of his eye.

“Look, that guy has a seriously dangerous amount of tricks up his sleeve and we should prioritize finding and rescuing the students. If he retreats, we can just chase after him later on our _own_ terms.”

Something about the way she kept saying ‘we’ made Kite’s stomach flip, but he also felt it strange that she would say something like that when she was a normal high schooler.

 _Was_ she a normal high schooler?

“Right, don’t chase them.” He said, getting up and looking towards Stan who looked entirely too satisfied with himself and nursing a black eye, “Leave it to the police.”

Kenny snorted, “Wow, and coming from a vigilante.”

He quirked his head to the side with a smirk, “I prefer hero.”

And, to his complete shock, she smiled something that looked entirely genuine in a sea of upturned lips that had seemed too perfect to be real, “Yeah. I could call you heroic, sweet-cheeks.” She picked up his hand and placed a kiss on his knuckle in one clean movement. “Now help me rescue the students.”

Stan made a coughing noise and Kenny let go of his hand, walking towards the door of the roof.

There were the sounds of sirens in the background.

Kite stared at her impressive form as she disappeared. He could feel the guards below retreating, he could feel the students on the nearby rooftop, he could feel Stan’s eyes on him.

“Hey, um, thanks for the rescue.” Stan scratched the back of his head, “Should you be here when the cops get here though? I hear they don’t really look too kindly on vigilantism.”

Kite nodded blankly, somehow his focus was still on the feel of her lips on his gloves and he felt every regret in the world that his costume had gloves. Sure, they made sense for a lot of reasons, but _it was absolutely no fair that Kenny had kissed his hand and he couldn’t feel it directly_.

Stan looked from him to the door, “You into her?”

Kite finally shook himself, “Thanks for the warning.” he said completely ignoring Stan’s question, a thought struck him, “Do you know why Professor Chaos brought you up here?”

Stan frowned, “Not a fucking clue. And you didn’t answer my question.”

There was a tickle of knowledge there that Stan wasn’t sharing but he understood that information would be easier to wheedle out as Kyle than Kite.

“I’m not obligated to answer anything.”

Stan frowned at him and he wondered if it was really a good idea to make an enemy of his friend by being terse, “Did you call that psycho a cabbage?”

There was a trill of panic in Kyle at the call out. It wasn’t like just anyone in the school used that as an insult. It was a Jersey thing.

He carefully schooled his expression into blank confusion, hoping that nothing else showed through, “Cabbage?”

They stared at each other a moment, Stan’s suspicion flickering with doubt.

The sirens were close enough now that one could hear the cop cars parking below. It was a wonder the response time was so slow, Kite filed that mystery away for further investigation among a pile of other things he now had to look into.

Stan cracked first, “Fine. Whatever. Maybe I misheard. You should seriously make yourself scarce before the cops get here though, I don’t think they’ll be really discriminative about one weirdo in a costume or another.”

Kite nodded in acknowledgement, the weirdo comment was going to earn Stan some retribution later, and took to the sky, trying to figure out the best way to sneak back into the school and change back into Kyle. It wouldn’t do to have the already suspicious Stan not be able to find Kyle after all this. It was going to take some serious formulating.

In the meantime, while his brain tried to play catch up with the series of events that had shaken him to the core, he went as high up into the air and let out a cry, startling nearby birds.

“Holysh-- _She kissed my hand_!”


	6. Chapter 6

Kenny felt like he hadn’t exhaled until he was in the safety of his home.

He'd gotten just about squashed by Kevin the moment he was within spitting distance of the home, and was literally carried inside while Karen’s fretting could be heard at their heels.

“You were on the news--”

“Don't you _ever--_ ”

“We were worried sick!”

When he was inside the house the already smothering hug from his older brother was joined with the too thin arms of his mother with a cry about her baby.

Kenny exhaled.

It was a hard day. It was a weird day. It was an _exhilarating_ day. But most of all he was wrapped in the arms of the people he loved.

The people that he was kicking up the hornet's nest in order to protect.

“Why were you even on that roof?”

“Who was the weirdo in the spandex that caught you?”

Kenny snickered, he could definitely enjoy a joke or three at Kite’s expense, even while it brought forth emotions that surged to life.

The memory of a different pair of arms wrapped around him, the desperate and relieved cry of thankfulness that woke him up.

Finally he put together the details that were coming out of his inquisitive family.

“I got thrown off the roof?”

“ _Seriously_? How could you not know?” Kevin was giving a slightly judgmental look and Kenny returned it, touching the prick at his neck self consciously.

“I got knocked out. I didn't wake up until after Kite caught me.” ...And floated him up above the drama to look him in the eyes like he hung the damn stars. Or at least that’s what it had felt like. Kenny wasn’t going to say any of that though, charming as Kite might be he still didn’t know enough about his motivations.

He liked working with him though.

And while he might not currently admit it, he’d kinda enjoyed the nicknames. Ridiculous as they may have been. It just kind of tickled an itch he didn’t know he had to have someone assign him a name between the two of them.

It felt intimate.

The questions continued to pour out like a stream, his family hardly even waiting for an answer before the next question was tacked on.

“What kind of name is Kite?” A little laugh from his baby sister.

“What do you mean knocked out?” His mother's hand caressing his head for signs of injury.

“First name basis?” A raised eyebrow from his brother.

The front door opened and closed, giving Kenny just enough time to spot his father before another bear hug enclosed around them all.

He smelled like the bar. Kenny would normally be annoyed, drinking away the food budget, but there was a comfort to be found that he couldn't resist in the moment

He had his family. They were all safe. Everyone was safe.

So far as he heard and saw, Stan had been the only student actually injured, and only cuts and bruises from his affair with Disarray at that. The rest had hidden or been trapped. A few students got the goop treatment but police were working on freeing them when he left.

It did beg the question as to why Stan had been specifically targeted. Kenny at least had been causing trouble, had Stan been doing so as well?

He regretted, just a bit, letting Professor Chaos go. The man was _insane_ but clearly had resources.

He'd made the decision in a snap judgment, Kite didn't look like he had much left in him and Stan was ultimately just a normal kid. It would have been Kenny alone versus a guy that could do surprise lightning. That wasn't the sort of person that Kenny fancied facing without some form of protection.

It was a long time before anyone let go or stopped with the seemingly endless questions. Kevin didn’t let go though, and Karen had curled up in his lap.

Kenny let the exhaustion of the day take hold. They were questions he could answer in the morning. Problems he could solve with a clear mind.

Right now he was going to sleep covered in the warmth of people that loved him.

\---

The first thing Kyle did when he got home was rush to his computer in order to google a name.

Of course, upon suddenly realizing that he didn’t have the foggiest idea what Kenny’s last name was and he was only half sure she had said it was short for ‘Kendal’, his hands froze on the keyboard.

There was a completely invasive knock as Ike let himself in, arms crossed over his chest and not an ounce of amusement in his face.

“‘We should keep what we can do a secret’, huh?” He griped.

Kyle sighed, “...I take it you saw the news.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone in town that _hasn’t_ . Well, except mom. She left on that business trip today and I think she’s still in the air.” They both shared a shudder of dread at the thought of what would occur when she landed and learned that her precious bubbies school had been under attack, “But some psycho hacks into the network, spouts a whole lot of crap, threatens to throw someone over the roof, and then actually _does_ . But _surprise of his life_ turns out there’s this asshole with a jewfro that can fly. Who. Could. That. Be.”

There was no helping it, there were times in life where you just had to take your well-earned medicine. Kyle sighed, “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you--it, it wasn’t exactly a well-thought out decision--”

“ _Clearly_ if you had the time to somehow put together a get-up like that, you’ve been thinking about it for awhile.”

Someday’s it was just terrible how astute his brother was.

“Okay…” Kyle admitted, “I was embarrassed, okay? I know it’s a stupid thing to do. I just--I felt like I had to and I didn’t want to be talked down.”

Ike stomped over and kicked the leg of his chair, almost sending Kyle toppling over, “Don’t decide what I’ll think about something without consulting me, ass-nugget!”

Siblings had a way like that, stubborn, uppity, and somehow surprising a person no matter how many years they had been known in strange ways.

“ _Obviously_ I’d make fun of you, but the whole ‘hide our powers’ shit was _your_ idea, remember?” Ike gave him a _look_ , “Don’t be such a drama queen about everything.”

Having quite enough of his brothers sass, Kyle decided to give the boy a solid noogie, “I don’t wanna hear that about the kid that cried at the coronation of the new Queen of Canada.”

“It was _touching_.” Ike defended.

The boys wrestled for a moment before Ike managed to free himself and finally pointed at the computer, “So what was so important that made you run up here without even saying hi?”

Kyle frowned thoughtfully, “A girl at my school. She’s... “ he tried to think of an adjective that wouldn’t add Ike to the long list of people making fun of him for his very pronounced crush, “...unusual. She was exceptionally calm in the emergency.”

Ike shrugged, “So she’s got a good head on her shoulders, so what?”

“She was able to handle a weapon without any hesitation.” Kyle continued.

“So can most people in this hick town. You do remember that Stan’s family goes hunting several times a year, right?”

Kyle deflated, “Look, just, trust me? There’s something about her that’s _off_. I don’t know what, but it wasn’t the normal level of calm in an emergency situation. It was like she was used to this sort of thing.”

“So you want to google her? Why not just ask around? This is a seriously small town, if she’s done anything weird in the past there’s going to be some town gossip that knows every damn detail.” Ike knew this first hand, having at one point been the target of the town’s gossip when he’d least suspected it.

“She hasn’t been in town for the last couple years, she moved here from Japan.”

“Look up her name in the Japanese news then?”

Kyle tried it.

They tried a lot of things. It was nice to bounce ideas off of Ike as he searched, the kid was sharp as a tack and hardly missed details.

“What if you just look up ‘Tokyo’ and ‘disaster’?”

Kyle side-eyed his brother with an eye roll, “Because that won’t get me more results than I can sift through. You do know they have some weird monster situation over there, right?”

Ike shrugged and typed it in, a lot of generic articles that hardly felt real popped up but nothing was promising. They refined the search further to try and include foreigners.

Nothing.

Kyle leaned back in his chair in frustration, “Ugh, this is a lost cause…”

“What if we try searching in Japanese? I mean it’s not like we get a ton of news about the place over here.”

“Worth a shot.” Kyle admitted, opening a translation page and throwing in a few helpful keywords.

The working got slower from there, every page needed to be translated, every translation needed to be scrutinized. It didn’t allow for an easy time of it. Kyle had just about quit. He hardly knew what he was even looking for, some disaster where Kenny had saved the day? A public record of her being some kind of secret agent?

He kept looking though, prompted by Ike’s suggestions. It was harder to give up when there was someone helping you out.

It was one detail on a particular page that Kyle had almost missed that had Ike stopping him.

“Wait, what’s that? Click there.”

It was an article about a superhero.

No, Kyle threw the article onto a translation website, furrowing his brow, it was about a ‘magical girl’.

With golden hair, bright blue eyes, and had disappeared around the time that Kenny moved.

“ _Damn_ ,” Kyle breathed, taking in the details of the article while Ike read behind him.

“Does that look like her?” Ike asked finally.

“Sorta? There are definitely differences. I think the face is a little softer and--I’m really not sure, the photo quality here isn’t great…”

“But?”

“But it’s definitely close enough.”

The two boys sat in silence for a moment to take in the information.

“Is this the same girl you’ve been crushing on?”

“I haven’t been--okay, I don’t know her well enough yet to make a clear assessment--I can’t really say we’d make a good match--just, drop it, okay?”

Ike knocked the chair leg again half-heartedly, “It’s not all that dramatic, grandpa. Most people don’t have their entire retirement plans worked out with a random crush.”

“We’ll move to florida and wrestle alligators.” Kyle said with a wistful sigh.

It had the desired effect, Ike choked, “I was _joking_ , also really, _Florida_?”

“Oh, yes. Florida.” Kyle continued, wondering how long he could keep a straight face, “We’ll own a small home at the seaside and she can fight off the tourists while I mow the lawn. It will be magical.”

Ike punched his arm, “Okay, asshole, point made.”

Kyle let out the laugh he’d been holding in, “I can’t believe I got you with that one. I said we’d fight _alligators_ , why was that not in your disapproval?”

“Alligators are a valid retirement plan.”

“...The new generation dooms us all.” Kyle sighed despondently, only breaking face when he got a pointed nudge.

“So, what are you going to do about the fact that your not-girlfriend is a ‘magical girl’ or something, Grandpa?”

That was a question that Kyle didn’t quite want to deal with, “We’re not sure about that.” he said, “She could coincidentally resemble this ‘Princess’ and have coincidentally left town at the same time and coincidentally be great in a crisis situation as though she has tons of experience...”

It sounded thin but Kyle wasn’t quite willing to jump the gun on this.

Though if she was somehow ‘magical’ it could explain why she stuck out to him so immediately and why it felt so weird to touch her with his own weird powers.

It _could_ explain a lot.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it his attraction being a magnetism between two magical forces though. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea of a lot of things.

Kyle thrummed his hand against the desk in thought. Ike lapsed into silence as well, opening another article about the ‘Princess’ and translating it to give it a read.

He couldn’t deny the similarities in appearance, each new low-res picture of the Princess that popped up could have very easily have been Kenny, if one looked past certain details.

Kenny’s hair was a dirty blond, the Princess had a bright shining golden blond. Kenny had a light spray of freckles across her cheeks, the Princess didn’t look like she’d ever had a blemish in her entire life. Kenny’s eyes were the blue of a mid-afternoon sky while the Princess had what seemed to be a distinct purple glow.

If someone had told him they were related, he’d believe it in an instant, but he’d spent too much of his spare time staring after the girl like a creep not to notice little details like this.

“Oh, hey, there’s a video.” Ike clicked on it, “Damn.”

The sound that filled the room was something out of a nightmare. The roar of a monster. Kyle’s eyes locked on the screen as the shaky phone camera tried to capture what could only be described as a deep sea creature plus several appendages and added a few nightmares, tried to crush the compariably dinky Princess.

The hero leapt, tiny wings on her jewel encrusted boots actually flapping and oddly succeeding in giving her more lift before send a kick into the creatures _eyeball_. The man holding the camera made a few distressed sounds in Japanese, dropping his phone and a moment later the footage cut out.

“Damn.” Ike repeated, “If that’s actually for real, remind me not to fuck with her.”

It was terrifying somehow to see the creatures on film. He knew about monsters vaguely, from references in news outlets to casual acknowledgement of the situations with them abroad, but it never felt _real_. It was never a part of his life. It was like a tsunami, logically he understood that they existed, but he’d never experienced one outside the drama of film. It didn’t seem real.

This felt real.

Kyle stared at the stopped video for awhile. Rewound, watched again. He knew there was no guarantee his assumption was correct. He could be ridiculously off course.

It really could all be a coincidence.

But the way she reared and aimed a kick without a single hesitation or regard for her own life, it brought the fresh images of her just hours earlier, doing the very same.

He could be wrong.

But he was more sure than ever that the _something special_ about Kenny was something fucking magical.

\---

Something curled around his leg, wrapping its tendrils in deep and _pulling_. Claw, he clawed, clawed for safety, escape, he couldn’t be pulled.

He had to escape.

 _Found you_.

It echoed. Always. Eternal. Forever.

Echoed and _took_.

He gasped for air but found none. There was nothing in the void, just the sting of some digging into the flesh of his leg, slowly taking him deeper and deeper over the edge. He was going down and he couldn’t stop. He wouldn't be able to stop. It was going to take him.

 _Found you at last_.

It was a hiss, an impression of a word that shouldn’t exist and in a language that certainly didn’t. Kenny clawed again desperately for something solid, his index nail snapped in half he kept clawing, the pain at his ankle was worse.

Whatever was waiting for him at the end of the eternal drop was worse.

A million eyes watching him, waiting, smiling and curling around with taunting little smiles.

 _Found you, precious, precious, delicious, necessary, found, mine, ours,_ **_ours_ **.

He tried to breathe, to scream.

_Ours._

No. He had to say it.

_Don’t run, stay. We found you. We have you._

No.

Never.

 _No_.

His voice was in itself wrapped in the coils of something watching him, eyes smiling in a sinister pleasure.

 _Soon_ . The dark language promised in his mind, _We’ll be there_ **_soon_ **.

“NO!”

As if falling from a great height, Kenny jolted awake, heart pounding a mile a minute, the confused and bleary expression of his sleepy younger sister inches from his own.

It didn’t feel like his bed. He barely recalled that they had all fallen asleep on the couch.

He barely remembered his own name.

He was trying, first of all, to remember how to breathe and was only having partial success.

Karen’s hand reached out and brushed his cheek gently, “Are you okay?”

Kenny nodded, wishing it felt like the truth. It didn’t. He wasn’t. It wasn’t. There was something _wrong_ and he couldn’t find out where or how it had coiled its way up.

But his ankle still felt the burning from his brush with the abyss in the dream.

Monsters.

He bit his lip. Monsters followed and haunted. They couldn’t find him here though, could they? He was on the other side of the damn planet. He didn’t even _have_ the power pendant anymore. What could they hope to gain?

It struggled in the bottom of his stomach and he looked away from Karen’s worried face to find the battered clock that hung over the TV.

Five.

He could barely see the early dawn peeking out from the living room window. He pushed off the blanket with a quick nod to Karen and tried not to jostle the still resting Kevin. Kevin could probably sleep through an avalanche if it came down to it.

One more day of school today before the weekend, assuming the school wasn’t closed after the events of the previous day.

He wondered briefly how they would be informed if that was the case. Did his parents remember to pay the phone bill? Maybe there would be information on the school website...

He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if they didn’t have school. He could pick up a few more hours at City Wok.

He could investigate about the insane man calling himself Chaos that had thrown him off a goddamn roof. Asshole.

He could try and figure out the identity of the new superhero in town, with the sweetest cheeks around. Kenny was sure his grin was utterly filthy as he started up the coffee pot and sat at the kitchen table.

Learning more about Kite was tempting. Certainly nicer to think about than horror terrors pulling him into the deep with dark promises of a pain to come.

He knew that the guy had to be connected to the school now, given that the idiot had changed when they were all locked in. Even if he’d come from the outside, his response time was far too good.

There had to be a limited amount of redheads in the student body. Though South Park always did have an excess of gingers. Kenny smiled at the tabletop, remembering when Cartman had painstakingly put together a list of dangerous gingers from most to least dangerous, insisting that Kenny carry a copy _just in case the daywalkers came for him_.

Cartman had been weird like that. A total asshole, bigoted to the core, but on occasion weirdly concerned about those he considered friends.

Kenny still hadn’t run into him. He’d seen him at a distance, here and there, heard him tirading about something ridiculous in the lunch room, but not once had he spoken to him.

He didn’t really want to risk a repeat of the Stan incident, that all too innocent moment when Kenny was forced to acknowledge he wasn’t remotely memorable to people he’d considered close and precious.

The coffee machine let out a tired little pleeping noise, sounding far more like a plea for death than an alert of completion. Kenny poured a cup into a debatably clean mug and sat back down.

He didn’t like the smell of coffee. It swirled around him in a dark aroma that drowned out other smells. It also reminded him of the taste, another thing he didn’t care for, but the good news was it was warm and it was what he had.

A warm cup of liquid at somewhere between stupid AM and almost-sane AM.

A chair creaked and he looked up to see his mother sitting across from him, lines of worry on her face, and her own arguably unwashed mug of coffee.

“G’morning.” He tried to make his greeting cheerful. It came out garbled between his own confusion and the morning mouth that made everything in the world more difficult.

“Mornin’ Kenny,” she replied, her normal drawl making his heart squeeze with affection and tired coat of emotion with regret.

He probably could have handled the Chaos thing better. Without making his entire family worried shitless.

They sat in companionable silence as morning light started to actively fill the room, untouched warm drinks cooling with time.

He wondered if his mom felt the same about coffee as he did. Or maybe she was matching his pace.

He didn’t know.

She’d always been something confusing to him.

He spoke first, again. “Hey… ma?”

“Yeah?”

Kenny shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He’d spent the last couple of years without a parental figure and even before that, he’d never really depended on his parents like most kids did.

She tried, he knew she did, but it felt as though she tried in all the wrong places. Effort wasted behind the thick smell of alcohol and drugs.

He wanted some parental advice at the moment though. Something about that nightmare had left him feeling small and weak in a way that he’d not experienced since he was much younger and smaller. Since before he’d first learned to accept that his life and death were inevitable and uncontrollable and he would run and scream uselessly from the painful terrors chasing him down.

“I’ve got a bit of a complicated problem…” Kenny’s mind glazed over the litany of problems, from the arms dealer’s apparently run by a mad-man to the smaller issues like how he could still faintly feel the press of Kite’s lips on his hand. “I’m not really even sure where to start.”

His mother reached out, laying a hand on his own with a soft but painful smile, “I’ve got plenty of time. What do you need?”

There was so much he couldn’t tell her and a limited amount that she could even help with. But the reassurance of her hand eased some warmth back into the pit that settled itself in the bottom of his stomach from the moment he’d awakened.

“...What do you do when you feel helpless?”

He knew what she did. She turned to the bottle and other substances to numb her experiences until they were nothing more than a distant memory.

He knew it but he still asked.

She looked to the tabletop thoughtfully and he couldn’t read her expression in the still dim morning light.

“I ask myself questions,” she said, quietly.

“Questions?”

She nodded, looking at him with a sad smile, “What’s important to me, what’s worth fightin’ for, and why. And most importantly, what there is mine to protect.”

His mind wandered to the countless times he’d heard his mother cry _my babies_ in despair or desperation, struggling against a world out of her control.

There were a surprising number of memories that floated to the surface.

“Questions, huh…”

He did that too.

It’s what he’d done in Tokyo, when things got hard, he’d ask what was important and what he would stand for. He’d then promptly turn the questions to actions and vanquish the creatures that lurked in corners and threatened the safety of the citizens.

Now, when he’d returned, he’d asked how he could protect his town. And now he was doing so.

He turned his palm upwards to give his mother’s hand a comforting squeeze.

There were things he couldn’t quite forgive her for. Being more or less sold to some shady Japanese company was high on the list.

But she was still his mother.

And he saw himself in her, flecks of genetics that had trailed into his personality, his choices, and the way he handled crisis.

“Do you think I can handle this?”

He didn’t specify what, he didn’t know if he could specify what if he tried, it was too much to summarize. She didn’t know what he’d done in Tokyo.

She didn’t know what he was doing here.

She knew he was her son though. And she’d seen him struggle since before he had a functioning memory.

Her smile grew sincere and she squeezed his hand back, “There’s _nothing_ you can’t handle, Kenny. You’re my brave little boy.”

Kenny didn’t know why he felt like crying but he did. It wasn’t a sad feeling, it wasn’t like he’d ever been looking for her approval, but it _meant_ something in the bottom of his pessimistic heart that he was getting it.

Her smile quirked slightly and she looked over the dress he hadn’t changed out of after school, “Or brave little girl? Whichever you’d prefer.”

He let out a choked little laugh and shrugged, “Little boy is okay, ma. Though I’m getting taller everyday, ya know.”

“Yer pa was asking about the dresses the other day.” She shook her head, “Got it in his head it was some new fad or phase he should know about.”

“It’s--” he tried to think what the dresses meant to him, what the hair meant to him, why he’d spent time growing it out, why he remained this way even after returning, “Something of a comfort?”

“I’ve always been a pants sort of girl.” She giggled a little, it sounded girlish enough that it was a dreadful reminder of how young she actually was to have children this age. “But I knew a lotta girls that felt braver in a cute skirt, is that what is?”

“Something like that,” Kenny conceded. “It’s a bit complicated, I guess. I don’t know what I’ll wear tomorrow, but today I’m having fun like this?”

She nodded, “That’s okay then.” She squeezed his hand, “You can let me know if it’s anythin’ more serious than that, ya know that right?”

He nodded, a lie.

He didn’t. Not really. It had never even occurred to him to inform his parents of any of his life decisions or identity concerns. The thought of telling them didn’t scare him, it just didn’t even show up on the radar.

They were a distant entity that occasionally showed up to make noise or cause trouble. Ones that on occasion showed him love and on occasion showed him cruelty. His father had kicked him to death, once, when he was blitzed out of his mind on too many of the little stress relievers he used.

His mother had sat lifelessly on the couch in a zoned out state while he was stabbed to death by a home invader.

She wanted him to share his life with her but he didn’t feel as though he ever had.

It felt like she knew this too. There was something desperate in her grip, like her baby had slipped away and she didn’t know how to get him back. She looked so tired. Kenny’s own heart strained as a result.

He settled on something simple, “I might have a crush on a boy.”

“Oh?” Something woke up in her eyes, curiosity, happiness, interest, “What’s he like?”

He bit back a comment about Kite’s behind. This was his _mom_.

“He’s… well built. Hot-headed. Kind of an asshole?”

She laughed through her nose, “You’re like your ma, baby. Be careful of those bad boys. They can be an awful lot of trouble.”

“He’s not actually a bad boy, I don’t think.” Kenny thought it over a little, “I think he thinks he’s hot shit… okay, he _kind of is_ , he can do some impressive shit. And he seems to have a pretty good head on his shoulders when he’s not being hasty.”

“Mmm.” she hummed, resting her chin on her palm, “Sounds like a complicated boy. How old is he?”

“My age, I think. I’m pretty sure he goes to my school,” Kenny said.

“Maybe you should try to teach him a thin’ or two about patience then?” Her smile grew into something conspiratorial, “If anyone can teach a fool, it’s my brave little boy. I don’t think anyone’s really stood a chance against you when you got serious. I remember when you an’ Kevin were small, you’d tussle all the time and Kevin, he was always bigger and older so he’d win. But you never seemed all that frustrated or desperate, it was a strange thing. The other kids would cry and throw a fit over losin’, but not my Kenny. Then one day Kevin said something that actually upset you, I can’ for the life me remember what, but I’ve _never_ seen him go down so fast.” She laughed in a nostalgic way, “Made me wonder if you’d jus’ been letting him win all along.”

Kenny sat in the warmth of the early light in the kitchen with his mother and the crawling burning around his ankles felt like a distant memory.

It had been cold. Not an ice cold. A _bone_ chill.

This was warm.

He couldn’t help laughing a little to the story.

He’d never thought his ma had even paid that much attention to him or Kevin. He could remember the incident with more detail than her.

He could remember a lot of things that he’d always thought she’d been too drunk to recall.

He took a sip of the nasty tasting lukewarm coffee but still found his smile.

She’d never be someone he could rely on like a mother. There were many things he wouldn’t forgive, even if only on principle.

But she could be a woman that he befriended and had coffee with from time to time, and somehow that eased a deep hurt that had long since taken hold of his heart.

“Yeah, I think I can teach the idiot a thing or two about patience, ma.”

“That’s my baby.”

\---

They didn’t cancel school, but Kyle still didn’t see heads or tails of Kenny until after lunch hour. It would have made sense for her to not show up at all, considering everything.

A lot of kids hadn’t shown up. Kyle was honestly shocked the administration had persisted in holding school today, some sort of bogus PR move about not bending in the face of terrorism.

He wondered if yesterday had met the definition of terrorism. He’d have to look into it when he had a moment away from the mountain of other things he was researching.

Not the least of which was the mystery of Kenny’s past. He couldn’t help noticing every difference between her and the heroine that he’d spent the night researching.

Still, something in his gut told him he was right.

He’d reached a limit on what he could research on his own though so he made his way over to the girl just after the final period for the day. Their final classes were geographically close enough that it seemed plausible.

“Hey Kenny!”

She tensed, looked about, locked eyes on him, and _glowered_.

Right.

She was on okay terms with Kite but she still thought Kyle was a twit.

His heart sank to his toes.

“Yeah?” It wasn’t the sort of inviting ‘yeah’ that encouraged a conversation, it was the one that kindly requested the other party make an excuse and get the fuck away.

Kyle had given that same ‘yeah’ quite a few times in his life.

This one was also accompanied with deep bags under her eyes and he pulled back from his original interrogation ideas.

“I--I was wondering if you were okay, after yesterday I mean. I heard what happened.”

A small smile blossomed at the corner of her mouth, it was adorable and the kindest expression she’d ever directed towards ‘Kyle’, “Yeah, I’m fine. I had someone watching my back.”

Oh.

The smile wasn’t for him.

It was for Kite.

An odd unease crept its way inside and he fought back against it the best he could, it was stupid, he _was_ Kite! “That’s great. I’m really glad you’re okay.”

She opened her mouth for a probably short and dismissive response, he recognized the signs in her face by now, but it was cut off by someone leaning on her from behind. A chin resting on her head and arms over her shoulders.

“Who th--” she turned just a bit and then laughed, “Kevin, what the fuck are you doing here?”

This guy was huge. Was he even a high schooler? He looked like an adult. Kyle gaped at the open display of affection, and if it was possible for his heart to droop any more, it would be in the floorboards by now.

“Picking you up.” ‘Kevin’ said, giving her a friendly noogie, his voice was deeper than Kyle expected, and he sounded like he had a heavily accented drawl. “Now that we know your school is a danger zone, Karen insisted.”

Kenny snorted, an unladylike sound if Kyle had ever heard one but he loved how open and expressive it was, and felt complete horror that she displayed all this openness to whoever the fuck this Kevin-asshole is, “I’m _fine_ . Dude, I lived in Tokyo for _four years_ on my own, I can handle one day of mischief.”

“I wouldn’t really call a terrorist attack ‘mischief’.” Kevin looked up from the girl he was still _far too close to_ for Kyle’s comfort, “Who’s he?”

Kenny blinked, looking completely taken aback that Kyle was still there at all. Yep. That was how little he meant in her eyes, forgettable the moment she looked away.

She probably wouldn’t forget about _Mysterion_ , or _Kite_ , or _Kevin_. Ugh, Kevin, what a dumb name.

“This is--” she actually squinted in concentration to remember his _name_ , “Kyle. He’s Stan’s friend.”

“Oh, I thought you didn’t hang out with Stan anymore?”

Kenny nudged the boy not to subtly with her elbow, “I don’t. And Kyle was just checking up on me.”

“Hm.” Kevin said and _leaned over Kenny’s shoulder to offer a hand_ , “Thanks for that. I’m Kevin.”

 _Yeah, I gathered that much_ . Kyle _longed_ to bite back.

He swallowed it. Kenny thought he wasn’t worth her time, this wasn’t the time to prove her right.

 _No matter how tempting_.

“Kyle Broflovski.”

“Oh, you’re the Broflovski’s boy?” Kevin smiled and there was something familiar in it, “We live really close, practically neighbors. Haven’t seen you much around the neighborhood. Your mom is really nice though, thank her for the lemonade for me, will ya?”

Kyle wasn’t sure he’d hated anyone quite as much in his entire life. In a moment he felt defensive of his mom, confused over a neighbor he’d never met, and still had the burning jealousy that was bursting below the surface.

He blinked, a piece of information clicking into place, “We? You live together?”

Kenny snickered and Kevin shrugged, “I mean, until I get my own place. No sense moving out until I get closer to my certification.”

“Kevin’s gonna be a firefighter.” Kenny bragged, pride clear as day in her face and voice, it was somewhat crushing to hear.

“Oh.” Kyle struggled for something else to say, something witty or interesting, “That’s cool.”

“We should head out though, Karen’s gonna get worried at this rate.” Kevin nodded at Kyle kindly, “Thanks for keeping an eye on the twerp,” he ruffled her hair, “This one doesn’t know limits at times.”

“Like I wanna hear that from you.” Kenny shot back and waved at Kyle as if a second thought, continuing down the hall and away without stopping their friendly bickering.

Kyle listened as the voices grew distant, if only because he couldn’t quite move from the spot he’d been rooted.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m perfectly responsible.”

“I want a new brother,” Kenny said, “This one’s defective. Having delusions about reality.”

That earned her a hip check that she returned and Kyle woke from his heart broken despair, embarrassment coloring his face as red as his damn hair.

He’d been jealous of her _brother_ . Obviously, if they _lived_ together. And come to think of it the boy looked an awful lot like the little girl he saw with Kenny before.

In the sea of emotions that drowned him, he wished dearly for the ability to smash his head into the locker until one of the two things broke because he felt so incredibly _stupid_.

And the way Kevin had been looking at him, he was being _measured up_ , and he’d spent the entire time being a fucking _idiot_.

“Yo, dude, you okay?”

Kyle turned to David, opening his mouth to voice the concade of stupid and snapping it shut in shame. Nope. This wasn’t something he was going to be able to admit to _ever_. It was too stupid, too utterly mortifying.

Even with that knowledge spinning around he still opened and shut his mouth a few more times in a truly gobsmacked fish motion.

“Ah, this is Kenny related I’d bet.” David surmised, “Need tacos?”

Kyle shut his mouth for the last time and nodded mutely, filing after David in an attempt to calm his agitation.

“Is it because she seemed to be into that weirdo in a spandex from yesterday?”

“ _Kite_.” Kyle said bitingly in correction, realizing too late how it could out him.

Luckily, David took it as actual resentment towards the hero rather than the series of unflattering nicknames he was earning, “No need to be that scathing, he _did_ kinda save the day yesterday. I know you don’t like vigilantes, but you’ve gotta admit we woulda been pretty screwed without him.”

Kyle shrugged morosely, “She only likes him because he’s a superhero. Same reason she likes Mysterion.”

David pat his back, “C’mon, lets get you some tamales and comfort food. I’ll invite Stan and he can dish about how stupid the guys costume looked. He got a pretty close look after all.”

“No!” Kyle adjusted his bag, reigning himself in, “I just--I don’t want to think about him. Let’s talk about anything else.”

David shrugged, “Your call, dude.”

Stan joined them at David’s family restaurant shortly after they arrived, Kyle had half a mind to wonder if they’d planned this ahead of time. Maybe it was a ‘she’s just not that into you’ intervention.

Oh god he hoped it wasn’t that.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Stan to rush to their table with heated whisper that carried through the mostly empty establishment.

“ _Guys_ , I think I know who Professor Chaos is!”

“What?”

“ _Seriously_?”

“Have you told the police?”

Stan shook away the questions, taking a seat and stealing a tamale from Kyle’s tray, “No, I mean, I’m not sure, and I hardly believe it to be honest. It’s just… there were some weird similarities to this kid I used to know?”

“Professor Chaos is our age?” Kyle leaned in. The man had been tall enough that he would have believed it was an adult, but the helmet had hidden a significant portion of his distinguishing features, “How do you know? Do I know him?”

Stan shook his head, “I, uh, I kinda stopped hanging around him around the time we met, but I haven’t seen him around in awhile. I half thought he moved to be honest?”

“Well? Who is it?” David said.

Stan stopped, tapping his finger on the table nervously, “I’m--I’m really not sure. It’s more of a feeling than anything else. I don’t really wanna drag the guy’s name through the mud if I’m wrong, you know? His parents are _scary_ strict, like in a seriously concerning way? And if they heard even a _hint_ of something like this they’d probably ground him for life whether or not it was true.”

“Stan.” Kyle rolled his eyes, “It’s us. We’re not exactly gossips. Now spill the damn gossip.”

The joke didn’t help to ease Stan’s mood at all, he bit his lip anxiously, before coming to a decision, “Look, I’m just gonna ask around a little first, okay? And if it looks like I’m right, I’ll tell you right away.”

“If he _is_ Professor Chaos,” David said, “Wouldn’t it be pretty freaking dangerous to just ‘poke around’? Didn’t he almost _kill_ you yesterday?”

Stan looked down and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Just--just trust me, okay?”

David didn’t look like he wanted to let it go, Kyle could practically hear gears turning in his mind in an attempt to find the correct words of discouragement to convince Stan the obvious truth that this was a stupid idea.

Stan could apparently hear the gears as well, he tensed in preparation, posture decidedly defensive.

Kyle didn’t like it. At all. But it didn’t look like Stan was going to budge so he plucked a bean from his tray, gaining him the attention of both other boys. “I’m going to eat this bean.” he very pointedly putting in his mouth, glaring intensely, “It’s going to do what beans do and give me gas. And _when that gas comes_ , you put yourself in danger like a reckless idiot, I’m going to _make sure_ it’s released on your face.”

The tension broke as both of his friends lost it in laughter.

“ _D-dude_ ,” David gasped, “That was the best fucking possible ‘I’m going to fart in your face’ threat I’ve heard in my _life_.”

Stan had completely lost his shit, giggling into the table surface and nearly dropping his tamale. If one listened they could faintly hear giggles of _I’m going to eat this bean_.

Kyle smiled triumphantly and took a bite of his own tamale.

He might be a stupid, rash, overly emotional idiot but at least he could make his friends laugh. That was a win.

And maybe a certain superhero would ghost Stan around a bit. See who he talks to, who he asks about. See if he can work out Chaos' identity a bit sooner.


	7. Chapter 7

Kenny thought about it for a long time.

He looked in the cracked mirror that reflected the adorable girl he made and fiddled with the locks of blond hair that completed the look.

He looked cute and he liked looking cute. That wasn’t the trouble, but his conversation with his mother still weighed on him.

How much of this was what he wanted to be, how much of it was the strange safety blanket he’d developed in an uneasy situation, and how much of it was spite against Stan?

It was true that he liked the look.

He knew that, and it comforted him to know he wasn’t acting in a purely reactionary fashion, but was this what he wanted to look like today? Was it just a habit now to spend that extra few minutes in the morning to get pretty and prim?

There was a part of him that missed the simplicity of just throwing an oversized parka over everything or nothing, and hiding inside the folds for as long as it took for the world to stop being terrifying. Living inside an orange disaster he’d gotten as a hand-me-down from his brother and hiding so far inside of it that he could curl up and all anyone would see was an orange blob of fabric.

It gave rise to a new question. Given those facts, if that had been his method of hiding himself before, was this how he hid himself now? Was he just living a series of methods to avoid revealing himself to the world?

Kenny had been thinking about it since he’d returned to the country and he still didn’t have an answer. He didn’t have an answer today either.

His reflection didn’t offer a response, just the cultivated perfect smile he’d developed solely for the persona.

Was it just a persona?

It gave wind to the following cascade of questions that all boiled down to _if you live your life only as personas, who are you really_?

He didn’t know but it was time for him to walk to school with Karen so he pulled himself away from the bathroom mirror. Some questions took a long time to answer and that was okay.

Taking his time to work things out was better than rushing in head first like a certain hasty super-idiot.

Kenny smiled a bit to himself as he met Karen in front of the house, Kevin was hanging out too, apparently having determined that walking his younger siblings to and from school was now a top priority.

It was sweet. Silly with considering how impossible it was to cause Kenny any harm in a lasting way, but Kevin didn’t know that and that was for the best.

Among the list of people he wanted to _know_ and _understand_ his ability, family members never hit that list. He didn’t really want to imagine what it would result in but he didn’t think it would be all that satisfying.

Just another installment in the traumatizing events that continued to plague him and those he cared about.

“Oh, hey, it’s the Broflovski kid.” Kevin waved at Kyle over Kenny’s head and he looked up to see that yes, Kyle Broflovski was coming out of his family home looking distinctly uncomfortable.

How had he not noticed that Stan’s dumb friend lived practically nextdoor?

Karen nudged him and he took his attention away from the casual greetings between neighbors. Karen pulled him down to whisper, “Isn’t that the guy you told me you rejected? I mean, he looks like a tool with all that gel but he’s still seriously cute, what gives?”

Kenny chuckled and lowered his voice, “Personality.”

“G’mornin’ Brof! We’re all headed the same direction! Walk with us!”

Why was Kevin so stupidly friendly?

Kenny tried to elbow his brother but Karen chimed in, “Don’t be a stranger!”

Great.

Kyle shuffled over awkwardly, not a moment later a smaller boy with dark hair exited the same house, looked them all over with the most judgmental look Kenny had ever seen, and looked just about ready to make an escape of some kind. The kid simply _oozed_ the ‘none of you are good enough for my company’ aura.

But then dark eyes locked on Kenny and the boy walked to Kyle’s side. Kyle was giving the kid a _look_.

Ah. A younger sibling. They didn’t have much in the way of resemblance but it made the most sense.

“Good morning,” the kid monotoned. “You guys kidnapping my dumb brother?”

Kevin chuckled, ruffling the kid’s hair, “You too, apparently. C’mon, squirt, I assume you’re Ike?”

Ike’s eyes squinted at Kevin, “How do you know that…”

“Because your mom’s a customer and never stops talking about her precious bubbies.”

The nickname caught both brothers by surprise and now Kyle looked as scarlet as his hair. It was cute, Kenny decided against paying too much attention to it though. It didn’t stop Karen from nudging him not so subtly.

Kyle’s brows furrowed, “I thought you were aiming to be a firefighter?”

“Gotta pay the bills at the moment though, kid.” Kevin tousled his hair and Kenny was really starting to enjoy how much it made both Broflovski boys uneasy to have their hair messed with. Besides, Kyle looked better with the hair askew. “I’m working as a mechanic at the moment.”

Karen pulled Kenny close again so she didn’t catch Ike’s response to this, “You’re paying an awful lot of attention to their conversation for not being interested in him.”

Kenny rolled his eyes and batted his sisters smarmy look away, “I am not. Besides, I like someone else, so shush.”

Kenny thought for sure he’d whispered that low enough that the boys walking in front of them didn’t hear but the younger Broflovski tossed a look in his direction, flashing a daresay _knowing_ smirk.

Wow. What a little shit.

As soon as the look was there, it was gone.

The walk to school wasn’t as uncomfortable as it could have been, all things considered, Kevin was too busy talking off the ears of the new additions to their group for there to be a moment left spared for dealing with the elephant walking confidently behind them.

It was also amusing to hear Kyle's voice contrasted with Kevin's. One with slightly faster accent and higher pitch from the Eastern side of the country and the other the low drawling accent that Kevin had picked up from their parents.

It was interesting but also he found himself focused on something oddly familiar in Kyle's voice, it was hard to place what though… even harder to do so when he had no time to focus between Karen nudging him for information about the thus far unmentioned crush and Ike’s ears perking curiously for information.

If that little dude wasn't spying for his brother, Kenny would eat his whole damn boot.

It was shockingly relaxed a walk, even after they dropped Karen and Ike off and there was no one but Kevin between him and Kyle.

It was only when Kevin waved them off at the front of the school that things got a bit awkward.

“Your brother is pretty protective, huh.”

It was probably meant as a harmless comment. Kenny could reason this. But there was something about the undertone that had just the pinch of judgement that _wrankled_ his nerves.

Everything about this guy screamed a 'better than thou’ complex. From the first meeting when he was rude, to the subsequent meetings where he was obnoxiously forward...and not in a flattering way.

This punk had an issue with Kevin caring about his little brother’s well being?

Kenny felt a surge of protectiveness for his eldest sibling.

“Yeah, he is.” He kept his voice tight and low, hoping that the jerk would catch the hint.

No such luck, Kyle made no move to enter the school and put an end the the awkward exchange.

“Hard to imagine he let you move all the way to Japan.”

It was said in such a casual, joking voice.

There wasn't an inch of malice to it.

He was trying to ease the tension, build a bridge he'd burnt to a crisp before it had gone anywhere.

Kenny knew this.

He could _see_ this. He wasn't dumb. And even if Kyle was rude and lacked any social grace, he could easily say the same about the friends he'd had before leaving.

But it was a sore spot.

It was such an incredible gaping sore spot.

Yes. His brother had let him go, encouraged him even.

His friends had waved him goodbye and forgotten he ever existed at all.

His parents had used the money gained through the contract however they pleased.

He understood, in some bizarre way, that no on was going to remember his deaths. There was clearly something supernatural fucking with their heads and even if he felt bitter about it, he could _understand_ it. Take solace.

Everyone had sent him away and forgotten about him like he didn't matter at all. No magic, no curse, just him as himself.

No one needed him. It was hard for him to imagine that anyone even wanted him.

And Kyle, the grandest idiot of them all, decided it was a good topic to joke about casually.

"Yeah." Kenny replied tightly, hoping his tone said enough.

Kyle persisted, "It must have been hard so far from home, how did you manage it?"

He didn't want to talk about this. Of course it was hard. _Shut up_.

"I managed." he made for the entrance, a gesture that should be closing enough.

Kyle fell into step next to him, like the motherfucking persistent leech he was intent on presenting himself as, "Did you talk to anyone from home while you were there? Friends? Family?"

Kenny knew if he looked at his hands, little half moons formed by his nails would be present, he bit his tongue to avoid answering, nodding noncommittally.

"Who were you friends with? You don't seem to talk to anyone."

"Funny, that." Kenny ground out.

"Someone like you had to be pretty popular." Kyle wheedled, "How long were you in Japan? It can't have been long enough for people to forget about you."

Oh, that was _it_.

“You know what, Kyle?” Kenny pursed his lips, he didn't make a habit of insulting people in seriousness. He'd normally rather walk away from conflict. “Fuck you.”

He stormed away, bumping into Stan who had been behind him like a fucking eavesdropping asshole apparently. He snarled, “And screw you too, Marsh!”

He barely heard Stan's _what did I do_ as he hurried away, reaching for a drawstring that wasn't there. He didn't have a parka to hide in and he was destroying the delicate persona he'd created to hide behind.

And all because he lost his temper like an idiot.

He found the first available bathroom and rushed into a stall, ignoring the first bell entirely. And the next one.

\---

“Holyshit, dude, what did you do to piss her off?”

“I--I don’t know.” Kyle stared after her, he’d struck a nerve. Where, which nerve, or why, was a complete mystery, “Her brother walked us to school and he was pretty friendly so I thought I’d talk to her?”

Maybe he’d also tried to pry into her secret identity as well, but he hadn’t been _obvious_ or anything, had he? Was that why she snapped? Did he think he was trying to out her?

“Well then I don’t see how I’m involved… why she’d snap at me too?”

Kyle shrugged but one of the many things Kevin said struck him, “Hey, did you know Kenny before she went to Japan? Her brother made it sound like you guys were friends.”

Stan screwed up his nose in concentration, “Not that I recall? I would think I’d remember if I hung out with her. I mean, I guess maybe? Cartman used to throw huge games of play-pretend and pretty much every kid in town was invited. Maybe she was in one of those?”

Kyle frowned. It sounded closer than that but there wasn’t much point in forcing the matter. Besides, now that the shock had worn off, he was kind of pissed.

Scratch that, he was really pissed.

“I did _not_ say anything that deserved that reaction.” Kyle marched into the school, they didn’t really have a lot of time before first period, “I just asked about her time in Japan a little!”

Stan shrugged, “I’m telling you, she seems like a snob to me.”

“She isn’t!” Kyle snapped, unwilling to allow those particular allegations to continue, “She’s smart, resourceful, and brave. Did you _see_ her last Thursday? She had the situation on lock! No hesitation! Nothing! The issue is that she just--she _hates_ me and I don’t know why!”

“She seemed pretty into that Kite guy.” There was a pinch to Stan’s voice that suggested he might have suspicions. Kyle didn’t care at that precise moment.

“ _Don’t remind me_!” he hissed, “Seems like she’s just happy with anyone in a superhero costume! Doesn’t want to even bother talking to me!”

“...You’re describing a snob, Kyle.” Stan said.

“ _S_ _he isn’t a snob_!”

“Are you guys seriously arguing about the Kenny thing this early in the morning? Because I’m ditching you if you are.” David saddled up next to them for the brief walk to Chemistry, “Though speaking of, I heard she saved Annie’s life or something.”

Kyle snapped, “ _See_! Brave!”

“Dude, I’m not saying she isn’t brave, just kind of a bitch.” Stan argued.

“Don’t call her a bitch!” Kyle wasn't calming down, in fact he was heating up and it was going to be a problem.

It was an even bigger recipe for disaster because that precise moment in time chose to place Eric Cartman of all people was walking within hearing distance.

There was something of an unspoken rule within the school to keep Cartman and Kyle away from one another. Kyle was more than okay with it, as it kept the bastard out of his face, but there were occasions such as this when the stars would align and the world spiraled out of control.

“You guys talking about Kahl’s mom?”

Stan’s hand was moving towards his nose, David slumped in despair, Kyle _whirled_.

“Say that again, _fattass_! Say that shit to my face!”

“EY! Don’t fat-shame me! And I’m not fat, I’m big-boned, you stupid Jew!” Of course the idiot aimed for both, glaring daggers at Kyle. "And I'll say it as many times as I have to, I'll compose a whole damn song to it! Your mom is a  _bitch_!"

Oh, his knuckles _itched_ to punch out the damn neo-nazi. Kyle, they explained in a calm voice fit for a lecturer, everytime we punch a neo-nazi, a baby smiles.

This particular bastard was _really_ good at turning any and every situation into one where he was victorious though. Ones where he took away other’s freedom for responding to his taunts.

“Kyle, don’t.” Stan warned.

“C’mon, he’s not worth it.” David added.

 _Make a baby smile_ , his fists begged.

Cartman saw the hesitance.  _Of course_ he saw the hesitance, the bastard rarely missed a weakness.

“What, are you scared of me? I knew were all talk.” The _creature_ known as Cartman said, “Just a disgusting, greedy, dirty j--”

Kyle’s fists won the debate. Their wonderful trophy being a bruise on each knuckle.

Kyle's fists were pleased with this.

Kyle would be the one to suffer the suspension for their actions. He didn't really hold it against the appendage.

Somewhere, several babies smiled and one even giggled.

\---

He’d thought about it a lot.

And in one impulsive move, he’d done it all at once.

Kenny sat on the bathroom floor and stared at the scissors and fallen tresses of painstakingly grown hair.

He’d liked his hair. It was cute, fluffy, and braiding it with Karen had become one of his favorite sibling activities.

When he’d gotten home after a day of avoiding everyone and everything, the sight of it had just made him upset. Another thing he hid behind.

He didn’t like hiding. Feeling small or weak.

He didn’t like losing his temper or control over his emotions.

He stared at the lost hair at a loss. He’d liked it because it was something he understood. He could be a cheerful cute girl with fluffy hair and an adorable outfit and not dirty old Kenny McCormick.

To have _snobs_ like Kyle Broflovski turn up their noses at him because he came from less. Because on some horrible level on the inside, he _felt_ like less.

Maybe Kyle hadn’t been looking down on Kevin but it _felt_ like he was and it itched at an old anxiety that he’d probably never shake off.

The matter of worth.

The locks of hair had given him worth, at least to some. Kite probably wouldn’t be as interested in a scrawny boy with choppy blond hair as he had been with the perfect girl that Kenny wanted the world to see.

He didn’t want to be seen as himself and subsequently rejected.

The bathroom door opened and Karen carefully walked in, crouching nearby but Kenny didn’t look up, “Kevin said you left school early.”

Kenny nodded, wanting somehow to apologize that they couldn’t braid his hair anymore. It was impossible to find the words. He shrugged helplessly and hoped it conveyed as much.

“It’s okay, Ken. If you wanna talk about it, we can. If not, do you want me to even this out for you?”

He couldn’t help the half-smile that threatened his gloom, Karen took that as a positive answer and picked up the scissors to begin evening it out.

“Are you going to go to school as a boy tomorrow then? Giving up on getting back at Stan?”

Kenny shrugged, he didn’t know.

“We can probably style this girlishly if you want. Or worst case, if you’re really determined for long hair, I can have Kevin go pick up a wig.”

Another shrug.

Little arms wrapped around his shoulders and he leaned into the warmth they provided, finally finding some words, “I lost my temper today.”

“Oh… did you tell Stan?”

Kenny shook his head, “I don’t know…I don’t think he’d remember even I walked up to him and explained the entire story back to front. I was never all that important a friend to him, I just need to learn how to accept that.”

It hurt to think that.

When you hold a person close and they regard you as nothing. Forgettable. Worthless.

It makes even the bravest wonder if that’s all you really are.

“If that’s the case, that’s only because he’s a giant asshole.” Karen squeezed with emotion, “He’s a stupid jerk and he never deserved your attention.”

Kenny nodded, hiding his face in his knees. “Probably. I don’t know. I just…”

“I know…”

“Superhero crush probably isn’t going to dig the haircut either.” Kenny laughed, a touch of derision melting into the tone, “So that sucks.”

Karen pinched his arm, not really enough to hurt, but it got his attention, “Don’t be a giant idiot. Anyone that doesn’t like you for you, no matter _what_ you look like or choose to look, doesn’t deserve you and I will _fight_ them.”

The idea of his five foot nothing sister fighting the relatively tall superhero with muscles that made spandex into a _fantastic_ life decision was just wonderful enough to get him giggling.

Because he would bet _money_ that windy-powered-buns-of-steel had absolutely _nothing_ on the scrappy girl when she was on a mission.

“Thanks, Karen. I’m sorry for being a drama queen.”

“Yeah, you should be. I’m the only queen around here.”

“Okay, can I be a princess then?”

“You may.”

They dissolved into giggles and the scattered hair didn’t feel like quite as terrible a decision.

He _had_ been thinking about it.

He’d initially planned to do it within the first week, back when he’d thought that he would surprise Stan, Butters, and Cartman by showing up as a cute girl and immediately revert back to his old habits. It was going to be fun. Starting a new stage in his life.

And then he’d lost his temper and gotten stubborn about it and now he was despondent over _hair_ . Dear god, the shit _grows back_ and Karen was right, worst case wigs were totally a thing.

“Is the royal family gonna clean the bathroom anytime this century? There’s hair _everywhere_.” Kevin complained from the door and Kenny, like the good child he was, flipped him off.

\---

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to go out tonight. He wasn’t getting anywhere with Stan though, the guy hadn’t done or seen anyone unusual lately and Kyle was seriously starting to wonder if he was going to make good on his plans to investigate this ‘Chaos’ person.

It wasn’t a good idea to go out in full super gear just to patrol for grannies to help cross the street.

But, he was grounded. And suspended. And his mom was still on a business trip but the phone call he’d received from her about his suspension had been _explicit_. And Kenny had yelled at him. And a whole slew of reasons he felt the ball of emotions climb inside and squeeze at the center of his stomach, threatening to implode into a blackhole that tore his entire being apart.

_Are you happy?_

He felt stifled.

It was strange how every time he felt stifled that same question would creep out of the corner of his mind, like a curse whispering into his ear and promising so much.

He couldn’t stay in his room. Knowing he could be out there, doing something, making a difference, feeling _alive_ and _unhindered_.

Flying without reserve, landing on roofs to spy for criminal activity, breathing in the cool night air.

It was a testament to how entirely wrapped up in himself he was at the moment that it shocked him to see Mysterion was also prowling the night.

There he was, around a corner and in the gutter and…

He was picking up trash.

Kite had to do a full retake, he remembered hearing something to this degree but he had thought it was just the rumor mill growing out of hand, making more and more outlandish claims for attention.

Mysterion, the dark mysterious man that obviously thought he was some kind of badass, was holding a large black trash bag, a specialized stick for the task at hand, and moving along the dirty streets that he couldn’t actually be hoping to make a difference in.

Kite took in more of the scene, noting that there was a pile of identical black bags full to the brim less than a block away.

Huh.

He didn’t know quite how to take this.

It didn’t take much thinking to decide to glide down, landing less than a yard behind Mysterion.

“Hello, Kite.”

Kite actually jumped at the address, he was _sure_ he’d landed silently, but he just _knew_ the asshole was waiting for him to ask how, so he refrained, “What are you doing?”

Mysterion held up the stick, a used condom attached at the end, “What does it look like?”

“I mean _why_?” Kite asked.

“Why do you do _this_?” He returned, gesturing to the general being of hero-ness.

That wasn’t helpful. Kite was tired of that question too, “I asked first.”

“I’m under no obligation to answer.”

Kite frowned walking morosely behind the surprisingly mellow vigilante, “I care about this town.”

“Good reason.” Mysterion answered, depositing something moldy into the bag that smelled dead, “So do I.”

“So you pick up the trash?” Kite squinted at a juicy piece of gross.

“What’s more likely to help the residents of this area tomorrow morning? Cleaning up the streets or causing a gang war?” Mysterion asked, picking up the gooey grossness without hesitation.

Kite’s mouth clamped shut, assailed by the reminder of his actions and the disaster created by it. It was true, he _hated_ to admit it, but it was true.

He didn’t like _Mysterion_ of all people pointing it out though. Looking heroic as he picked through garbage for noble reasons. He didn’t want _Mysterion_ of all people to be heroic, especially not after a day like his.

Especially not after _she_ had made it abundantly clear that she found him abhorrent.

“It would do them more help in the long run to get the danger off the streets.” He regretted the words after he said them.

It wasn’t that they lacked truth, it was that they lacked sincerity. In his heart, he’d agreed but the pile of emotion that he continued to list as ‘pride’ couldn’t allow him that. He had to argue. He had to find a flaw in a man sedately and humbling picking up garbage.

It was no wonder she didn’t like him.

Mysterion turned away from his task, “Then can you put an end to Professor Chaos and his thugs tonight? Is there anything you can do about that tonight?”

Kite clenched his hands into fists. It was even more infuriating to be spoken to like he was a child. Like he had no understanding of the situation. Like he was naive.

“And where were you when Chaos showed up?” He shot back, happy to find strength, “A student almost died, I thought you were all about protecting people. _I_ was there.”

Mysterion turned back to his task, something silent and melancholy in his posture, “Good job there. It was a tough situation, it’s good that no one died.”

The words actually caused Kite to take a step back.

Did he just get praised by Mysterion?

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“The entire course of events started and concluded over the span of three hours, during one of which most of the town had no idea about the events due to the cell phone jammers. And some of us have work.”

He took that in, the information placed Mysterion’s age range in adulthood most likely. He was probably still quite young from what Kite could make out of his face.

He experimented with making a plastic bag float into the trash bag Mysterion was carrying. It missed and hit Mysterion square in the face.

Mysterion stopped. Kite noted with some horror that the bag was covered in some sort of slime. Perhaps the same goo from the gross rotting thing?

Slowly, the hero removed the offending item, a gross line of slime still connecting him to the bag for longer than it ought to before he put it in the trash bag.

Kite meant to apologize.

He did.

But when he opened his mouth a guffaw escaped. He couldn’t be blamed for that. The sight of the permanently stoic Mysterion under these circumstances--it was too much.

“Ha ha.” Mysterion’s voice remarked back and there was some emotion in it that Kite could _almost_ label as amusement.

“I’m sorry.” Kite said, holding in another laugh, “I missed.”

Mysterion’s shoulders shrugged and for the first time since dropping in, Kite noticed that the man was lacking his normal flair. He barely seemed to care about wiping the _gross_ off his face, only making a half hearted attempt with his glove.

Maybe it was because the situations he’d met Mysterion in previously had been so explosive but there had been a lot of energy in each movement. Mysterion didn’t seem to make any move carelessly, but every move he _did_ choose was at 100%.

This man was walking down a grimy street with a trash bag and slumped shoulders.

He wanted to be able to say _it serves you right_ , to feel the vindication that his one-sided rival was in the pits.

He wanted to feel the pleasure of a petty victory.

All he felt was worry at the bottom of his gut.

“What’s wrong?”

Mysterion’s shoulders tensed imperceptibly. Kite narrowed in on the movement. There was definitely something wrong. Something coiled around him and holding him down and tearing away his ability to feel _happy_.

“No.” Mysterion said.

“... _No_ nothing’s wrong or _no_ don’t ask?” Kite followed him as they turned into a narrow alley, still on the hunt for random pieces of garbage.

“No.” he repeated, continuing his task.

“Look, I’m just asking becaus--”

“You’re asking because you feel obligated to. Don’t. It doesn’t suit you, it doesn’t suit me.” He was picking up another damn condom, this one coated in blood. He didn’t even react to it, putting it in the bag silently.

Kite’s temper flared, “How would you know what suits me? Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“Motivation behind your behavior isn’t words in your mouth,” Mysterion countered, voice rising with annoyance, “Drop it, kid.”

“I’m not a kid! You’re _obviously_ not feeling great, so--”

“I’m _fine_!” Mysterion cut him off fiercely.

Kite’s emotions erupted, the pent up frustration over school, his mother, Kenny, his friends, _Cartman_ , the whole horrible world, and he pushed Mysterion against the alley wall, arms caging him so he could glare down, “ _Clearly,_  you’re not!”

“You don’t know _shit_ about me,” Mysterion growled, the sound making him all the more intimidating at close range, “Back up before I make you.”

The scuffle had knocked the bag of garbage to the ground as well, Kite felt a bit guilty for the spilled contents but mostly concerned what the glowering man would do about it.

“I know that you’re acting weird--”

“How would you even know what’s normal for me? You’ve met me _once_.”

 _Twice_ , he wanted to correct, restraining himself in time before he outed his own secret identity, “And in that time you showed more energy after taking out several armed punks than you have in the past half hour! You look like you’ve lost faith in life and you’re hyper defensive! I’m _worried_ , ya cabbage!”

He could smell Mysterion’s breath from here. It was an odd thing to notice, given the situation, but the surprising hint of mint in the air in the otherwise shnasty alleyway gave away that the dark vigilante brushed his teeth before engaging in his evening activities.

Mysterion was silent, staring up at him with an unreadable expression.

Some silences are difficult to understand. Not necessarily difficult to handle or difficult to endure, just difficult to wrap the mind around details inside. The mind can take in all sorts of tiny pieces of information, like the way Mysterion’s lips hung slightly open, discarding the normal line of stoicism and confident smirk. Or perhaps the closed blue in his eyes shining dimly from the bits of light offered by barely functioning streetlamps. The gentle curve of his face or the freckles that could barely be seen decorating his cheeks under the mask.

These were all things he could see, register, and acknowledge. But somehow he couldn’t understand them.

Why hadn’t Mysterion kicked him away or struggled against the circumstance?

Why was he looking at Kite like there was something he needed to decipher?

Mysterion’s lips moved and Kite was startled to realize he’d been focusing his gaze on them.

“Why?”

It was a simple question but Kite hadn’t an idea what it referred to.

“Why what?”

“Why are you worried?”

Well, there was no answering that one without wanting to slap someone stupid. Kite settled for a light head-butt. It was more of a forehead tap but he just liked the term head-butt better.

“Yer a real cabbage, ya know that right?”

Mysterion frowned, it looked more petulant that intimidating.

“I told you I cared about this town, right?”

It wasn’t the total truth to his motivations, it was just an answer to keep people from bothering him with the embarrassing truth.

But just because it wasn't his primary motivation didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

Mysterion nodded, something in the motion coming off as _are you kidding me?_.

“Well, yer part of this town, aren’t you?”

Mysterion’s mouth formed the smallest _o_ with eyes widening a fraction. If Kite didn’t know better, he’d say there was pink starting to blossom under in the visible skin.

And the other implications of what he said, his current posture, the close distance between them, and the look on Mysterion’s face all came crashing down at once, causing him to retreat back with hands raised.

“As I would be concerned about anyone, obviously!” He amended urgently, “Not anyone in particular, I--” he spotted the discarded trash and decided it was a good time to fix the bag, hurriedly shoving gross items inside and acknowledging he was tossing these gloves afterwards, “As a human. Worried for another human. I’m a human. Kite. The human called Kite.”

Mysterion chuckled, it was a deep and rumbling sound, it was nice, “Well, Human Kite, I’m going to trust you to finish filling that trash bag. Leave it with the others when you’re done.”

His brows furrowed, he had in no way agreed to be bossed around, and he wasn’t going to keep...and yep, Mysterion was just walking away with another trash bag in hand pulled from god knows where, not one fuck given.

Asshole.

He could argue but he’d been given an opportunity to _stop_ digging himself into a pit, so he was going to take it. Even if it meant picking up garbage while trying not to touch it. It was pretty good training for lifting things with his mind though. The extra pressure of the thought of the gross item actually _touching_ him forced him to focus harder on not letting it spin out of control.

It was strangely therapeutic, picking up trash, practicing a skill he’d thus far left uncultivated, and hearing Mysterion just a few yards off doing the same.

It was a nice change of pace from the work he’d been having. Getting yelled at left and right, consequences for actions he knew were _right_ but weren’t accepted because evil is a more devious creature. A week of disappointment and heartbreak.

But here he was just a guy cleaning a street with another guy cleaning a street.

It was nice.

Until he heard the growl.

The sound went straight to Kite’s spine, a stiff sensation of dread like none he’d felt before.

Like the shadows that he expelled from his house. But stronger. Louder.

Undeniably _real_.

Mysterion responded too and without a single moment's hesitation dove at Kite, sending both rolling to the ground in time to avoid a _shadow_ clawing through the air he had been.

Mysterion’s face held a panic that froze Kite more than the growl.

“ _Run_!”

He was up in in an instant, taking them both a safe distance in the air away from _whatever_ had reached out.

“Let go of me!” Mysterion struggled, “You run, I’ll handle this!”

He gaped, “ _How_ exactly? You don’t even know what that thing is!”

Mysterion grit his teeth audibly, “Neither do you, but I’m more likely to come out of it in one piece.”

There was a skittering sound of discontent from below and Kite could hear the echo of a voice, something that spoke more to his bones than his ears.

 _We’ll find you_.

“Holy shit, what _is_ that?” He gasped, taking them down on a nearby rooftop and trying desperately to see the shadow in the shoddy light below.

Mysterion struggled out of his grip instantly, beginning a rather impressive show of parkour down the building, “Whatever it is, I’ve got to stop it.”

Something lashed out of the darkness below and took hold of Mysterion’s foot, dragging him downwards.

Mysterion’s eyes were impossibly wide and terrified, open for just a moment to show the soul inside to the world.

It was instantaneous, Kite flew forward and took hold of Mysterion’s arm, pulling upwards.

 _Don’t struggle_ , the thing giggled, _we’ve got you_.

“Let me go!” Mysterion repeated, this time with more feeling, “If you don’t it’s going to get you too!”

Kite followed the line of darkness to a shadow. The thing was strong, his grip on Mysterion wouldn’t last. It was pulling so hard he thought Mysterion’s leg might just pop off.

He saw the bags of garbage.

“Don’t be mad, babe.”

Mysterion blinked owlishly but Kite closed that away, focusing on the alley below.

Wind.

All of it.

He lifted the sacks of garbage as well as the miscellaneous items around and let his focus wander.

He felt the effect before he saw it. Abruptly the shadow’s grip had loosened and Kite pulled Mysterion into a tight hold away from the creature, tentacles now fighting a literal tornado of trash in the alleyway. Some items were hitting walls hard enough to leave dents.

“I’m mad.” Mysterion said, blandly.

“I know.”

“We spent a long fucking time picking that up.”

“I know.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.”

“...Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

 _I’ll get you_!

The hiss was distant, Kite realized he couldn’t see as many tendrils in the alley.

 _You can’t hide_!

A shiver ran down his spine. It sounded everywhere and nowhere.

And then it was gone.

Kite reached for its presence with his mind, dreading to find it but equally fearful he wouldn’t. It was dangerous, in a way that he couldn’t begin to describe.

The trash was still in a merry tornado below.

“...Do you know how to put a stop to that?”

“Not even the slightest clue.”

“Ah.”

Kite put them on the rooftop again, where they sat on the ledge and waited for the trash tornado to calm.

“That was stupid. You shouldn’t have protected me.” Mysterion admonished after a beat of silence. He lifted up his leg to check for injuries where the _thing_ had grabbed him.

Kite felt an odd sense of deja vu but he couldn’t place from where, “What the hell kind of hero would I have been if I let it get you?”

“A living one.”

There was the deja vu again. Where had he heard that before?

“Look, we already covered this. I protect citizens, you’re a citizen.”

“Right. Human Kite.”

Kite groaned, “Don’t call me that.”

Mysterion looked up from his examination of his leg, something mischievous in his expression.

“You called me babe. I think that gives me the right to call you whatever the hell I want.”

He felt warmth crawl up his neck, “That wasn’--don’t think anything of that, it was just--a nickname I used to use a lot, it’s not special. I was panicked. You can’t hold that against me.”

“Think, if I died, the last thing anyone would have called me was ‘babe’. Truly, I was loved.”

Kite punched his arm lightly, a gesture that felt too familiar but Mysterion didn’t seem to care, “Don’t be an asshole.”

He _saw_ Mysterion bite back a remark and he felt instantly curious what it could have been. He decided against prying.

The silence was companionable, nice, and he was still trying desperately to make his heart-rate slow down after the sheer _terror_ of facing whatever it was that had attacked them.

It was still out there.

It could be anywhere and all they could do was watch a slowing tornado of trash in the late hours of the night.

“...What was that thing?”

He didn’t think Mysterion knew the answer, how could he? Kite ought to know better than some no-powered man in tights. He’d felt things similar before, but he’d never _seen_ them.

He’d never felt something that strong, insistent, _cruel_.

“Something I’m going to find and destroy.” Mysterion’s hands were a tight fist. “It’s dangerous. Too dangerous to be here.”

Kite nodded, noting that there seemed to be a lot unsaid in the declaration. Something almost personal.

And, of course, a plastic bag floated up from the tornado and hit Mysterion in the face with a wet _smack_.

Kite almost fell off the roof from laughing.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Damn.

Kenny stared at his ceiling.

_ Damn _ .

The sounds of the household waking up around the old couch built up in volume from tiny squeaks of floorboards all the way up to the screech of the coffee grinder.

God. Damn. It.

Where to even  _ begin _ listing the amount of things he wanted to curse.

Issues like how long he did or didn’t want his hair fell into the absolute back of his mind and even explosive fits at Kyle and Stan felt entirely inconsequential, the whole of his current teenage drama was a stupid and vapid as it got.

Something had followed him.

There was no mistaking the creature that had wrapped around him and threatened to tear him apart limb by limb, after all, it had done just that previously.

Only back then he’d had a goddamn magical broach.

Kevin could be heard chatting with their mother in the kitchen, tones still low as to avoid disturb his snoring father. Thin walls did nothing to protect one’s ears against that particular onslaught.

His heart tightened. He’d almost been ripped apart.

And the idiot had rescued him, again.

_ Shit _ .

It was a terrible thing, in the mind of the cynical, to notice that affections have grown stronger than one is comfortable with. He had no intention of taking the Kite thing serious.

He looked good in spandex and had a sweet ass. That was the beginning, middle, and end of it. He had no intention of  _ like _ -liking him. Just casually admiring what he saw.

There had been something entirely fierce in his eyes when he’d cornered him. Kenny still felt restless at the thought of it.

Kite had a desperate need of chill…but that underlying passion and compassion, his inability to accept bullshit answers, his straightforward approach to problems that felt complicated and painful…

Kenny tried to make sense of the ceiling and his own circling emotions. A bipolar game of volleyball from dread to glee and back again.

He remembered what those creatures did to Tokyo. There were buildings that collapsed with people inside. There were lives lost in initial blasts of attack. There was an incredible amount of collateral damage in the battles that he’d fought seemingly daily.

And those things were  _ here _ . In  _ South Park _ .

Stupid psycho arms dealers he could handle. Drug cartels he could manage. And while arguably there was a time he was able to handle giant squid monsters, he’d had the edge of an actual fucking magic wand.

Without that power on his side…it didn’t bear thinking about. It filled him with dread.

_ One _ of them could probably level the entirety of the small town in a matter of hours.

He needed to find solutions, not think amount meaningless stuff--

Kite had called him  _ babe _ in a moment of urgency. Kenny didn’t know he liked nicknames. He knew he’d felt a tingle of appreciation for it during the school invasion but this just solidified the suspicion.

He liked nicknames  _ a lot _ .

Or maybe he just liked whatever Kite chose to call him, he struggled to think of a word that could come out of that passionate boys mouth that would make him any less attractive.

He refocused his thought, all but physically shaking away the derailment.

...He couldn’t track the creature after it disappeared, he’d never been able to, even when he had the powers of the Princess. He could only  _ wait _ for it to show itself and potentially kill everyone he loves in the process.

They lived in darkness, the only consistency was that they more often than not would crawl out of shadows or the ocean.

And they were normally here in the daytime.

That struck him as strange. The one that came last night came out in the dead of night. He’d always assumed they couldn’t come out after dark, considering he had not once seen one after dusk or before dawn in the four years he’d spent fighting them.

This was a drastic change in behavior. Also the tentacle that had held him--it felt strange--darker somehow, it burnt into his leg despite not leaving any clear injury.

_ Damn _ , Kite had just dove right in. Like it was nothing. Like it was the right thing to do. Like there was nothing that could be said to convince him otherwise.

Like Kenny’s life mattered.

He couldn’t think of a time it felt like it mattered to anyone outside his family. Kite didn’t even know him and already threw his own life in the way of danger and it was so  _ stupid _ \--

\--and  _ seriously _ sexy.

And then, there was the final  _ damn _ that resounded in his mind as his younger sister awoke, walked past his prone figure on the couch, and joined the kitchen conversation.

Kite was proving to be exceptional eye-candy with an extremely attractive personality.

And in a household where he lived on the fucking couch, touching his dick was something he had long since given up on altogether.

“Goddamnit.” he told the ceiling solidly, pent up in so many ways it was ridiculous.

\--

He wasn’t allowed to return to school until Monday the following week.

How Cartman pulled that one off, Kyle didn’t even want to know, but he wasn’t going to fight it. His mom was already taking the fight directly to the school board. It wasn’t doing anything as of yet, but she wouldn’t even be returning home from her business trip until Friday.

It gave him time to look into the  _ creature _ that had crawled out the darkness and crawled back just quickly.

Not that he had the slightest idea where to start. Other than the fact that it was a tangible version of a horror from his deepest nightmares and had what appeared to be a clawed tentacle cloaked in darkness, he didn’t really have much to go on.

Oh well, there was also the fact that it seemed to be speaking straight into his brain. So potentially psychic? Either that or he had yet  _ another _ power he was unaware of and that was too uncomfortable to consider.

And then there was the pile of research he still needed to complete on  _ Professor Chaos _ . From what he could tell the warehouse they’d raided had been quiet ever since, no organized criminal activity, but who knows where Chaos had moved his operations or what his operations truly were.

Sure, the warehouse had been primarily in weapons but they had been normal weapons. Guns, explosives, that sort of thing. The weapons that Chaos and his crew had been toting were  _ abnormal _ in a truly disturbing way. Not to mention that everything that had come out of Chaos’ mouth sounded more like an advertisement for a cult than a weapons dealer.

Chaos was one huge question mark. One huge, deranged and psychotic question mark.

The trouble was he couldn’t focus on any of that because Stan kept texting him.

[ _ From: Stan Marsh _

_ duuudddeeee _ ]

He ignored the first one. He assumed it wasn’t all that important.

It was only when the onslaught of buzzing continued for a full ten minutes as the only backdrop to what he was becoming pretty sure was a monsterfucker kink website that he finally caved and looked over it.

[ _ From: Stan Marsh _

_ Kenny changed her hair _

_ Like _

_ Alot _

_ The girls are freaking out about it, it’s a thing, i thought i should tell you. I should tell you right? _

_ Dude, come on, reply already. _

_ I know you dont have shit to do since your home _

_ Ngl feeling p ignored rn _

_ Here i am, being a best pal, informing you about ur snobby crush while youre stuck at home and u ignore me _

_ That’s cold, bro. _

_ lol _ ]

Kyle sighed, a growing temptation to pinch the bridge of his nose developing and being subsequently squashed by his pride. That was Stan, making a big deal of nothing, getting upset on his own, and then undercutting it all with an ‘lol’.

He typed a quick reply, something to the degree of not caring about Kenny’s hair and being busy, before turning back to--yeah, yeah that was  _ definitely _ monster porn. He clicked back with a long suffering sigh.

Kenny changing her hair was interesting though…didn’t girls usually do that over something dramatic? He carefully set aside the times he’d changed his own hair over something dramatic.

Did something happen to make her want to make a big change?

The way Stan was talking about it she might as well have shaved it all off. Did she dye it black and go full goth? That would explain Stan’s interest, having his emo thunder stolen.

He frowned and looked back at his phone.

He was very much tempted to ask for a picture.

Luckily common sense reared its ugly head and informed him under no uncertain terms that asking for something like that would be what is commonly referred to as  _ creepy _ .

Having a picture of Kenny would be nice though…

Purely for academic reasons! Just so he’d have a direct reference when he was comparing Kenny to the Princess! He’d still never gotten to the bottom o--

Kyle’s blood vessels decided at this moment to slow down, take a break, have an icecream cone and promptly get brain freeze. The sensation of dread that crawled up him was instantaneous.

He was an idiot.

He reopened the bookmarked tab of the Princess fighting a giant tentacle monster.

_ A giant tentacle monster _ .

If, by chance, Kenny was the Princess. And if, by chance, this tentacle monster was at least related to the one that was depicted getting its eyes gouged out on screen, then, by deductive reasoning, the chances that Kenny was the target of this monsters contempt. Possibly even it’s reason for being in South Park at all.

He picked up his phone, fingers flying across the screen and making countless mistakes in haste.

The resulting  _ ud shr pk?!  _ required re-typing.

And that was enough time for him to calm the pulsating panic inside him, to the extent that he rethought his tactic.

Asking if Kenny was under threat of giant tentacle monsters was probably not the best way for him to actually convince Stan there was potential impending danger.

He bit his lip.

He had an idea but it was a pill to swallow. After all the time he had spent denying, playing down, and otherwise avoiding talking about his mountain sized crush on Kenny, asking for help was just plain humiliating.

Ultimately her safety was more important though.

_ [To: Stan Marsh _

_ Hey. I want to ask a huge favor.] _

Stan didn’t take long to reply.

_ [From: Stan Marsh _

_ shoot] _

Ugh. He hated this.

_ [To: Stan Marsh _

_ Can you try to hang out with Kenny today? See what’s up, I don’t know, maybe figure out why she hates me so much? I know you don’t like her but it would mean a lot to me.] _

Stan sent a few in quick succession.

_ [From: Stan Marsh _

_ I dont hate her dude, i just dun get y she hates me. _

_ But yea, sure _

_ u owe me tho] _

Kyle let out a sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair.

Now Stan would spend the day with Kenny and if tentacle monsters attacked…

...they would kill the  _ both _ of them.

“ _ Fuck _ .” Kyle smacked his own forehead, “What the hell kind of dumbass am I?!”

He was going to have to loop the footage on the nanny cam again. He wanted to limit the number of times he did this, his mother wasn’t dumb and if she found out he’d snuck out when he was  _ suspended _ ...it didn’t even bare thinking about. He wouldn’t live to graduate high school.

The risk was worth it if it meant keeping Kenny safe though. He rifled through his closet and found his hidden uniform.

It still smelled from the garbage storm.

His nose crinkled but he powered through putting it on, dousing himself in air freshener by the end.

This was a disaster. He hated how unbalanced he felt lately, every time he felt as though he’d gotten ahold of course of action, the next one tipped the scales and he had no idea how to handle it.

At least he would get to see the hairstyle that had Stan so panicked.

He cringed, realization dawning.

Great.

He was going to school secretly in order to stalk his crush while in a halloween-level disguise.

It didn’t really help to think that he was doing it for her own good and to protect her from a painful death. It actually made it sound worse in his head.

Like a deranged loser that had convinced himself that he knew everything.

He wasn’t jumping the gun, was he? There was still a high possibility that Kenny was the Princess and even if she  _ wasn’t _ she still bore a strong resemblance and therefore could be accidentally targeted. These tentacle creatures could also be different tentacle creatures from the ones that he’d seen in the video but also… really, how many tentacle creatures could there  _ really _ be?

He really didn’t want the answer to be more than one.

The good old turn of phrase  _ better safe than sorry _ could be attributed as the final influencing force that pushed him to retreat his home and take off flying towards the school.

\--

“So, Kenny, what class do you have next?”

It took a special breed of idiot to approach a person so casually after the last conversation had ended with yelled expletives. That was kind of who Stan was though and it made Kenny remember one of the reasons he’d been so fond of the boy.

“History, why?”

Stan made a valiant attempt to look nonchalant, it failed, “No reason. Just, uh, asking.”

“Right.” Maybe it was the hair? Something jumped in Kenny’s chest. Was that all this stupid dick-nugget needed to recognize him? “And?”

“Nothing.” Stan shifted, from one foot to the other, “Your hair looks nice. Wasn’t expecting you to cut it.”

“Thanks.” Kenny shrugged.

This was awkward.

Kenny’s eyes darted around for the member of Stan’s crew that  _ usually _ went out of his way to bother her, but there was no sign of him. Maybe this was actually an attempt to make nice after yesterday's disaster? “Where’s Broflovski?”

Stan brightened at the question, “Oh, he’s suspended!”

So. Many. Questions.

Kenny settled on, “You said that pretty cheerfully, ya guys have a bitch fight?”

“No, that’s--I was just surprised you asked about him, you, uh, don’t seem to like him much.”

“No shit.”

Kenny clamped his mouth shut.

This wasn’t the speech pattern he’d cultivated for this persona.

He hadn’t meant to say that.

It was something he might have said to Stan before he left.

Stan either didn’t notice or didn’t care about Kenny’s emotional recoil, “He’s not a bad guy, you know. He can come on a little strong but he’s pretty much all goo on the inside… also a molten core, but like, soft goo surrounding the molten core.”

“So he’s an asshole wrapped around a softie surrounding a bigger asshole.”

“Exactly!” Stan said, “No, wait…”

Kenny had had it with this. He definitely didn’t want Stan fucking Marsh of  _ all _ people spelling pulling this and he had more important shit to deal with than Kyle’s stupid crush.

“Look, dude, I get you’re trying the wingman thing, but you’re bad at it and I’m not interested.”

It had the desired effect, Stan slowed his babble and actually looked at him. It was probably the most attentive he’d looked towards him the entire time he’d been back. It wasn’t a kind look though.

Stan frowned, “Too busy mooning over hero-boy?”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” There was perhaps more offense coating his words than intended, he couldn’t take it back though. It hit close to home. How did Stan even…

“You kissed the guy’s damn hand when we were on the roof.” Stan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, a bitchy posture if Kenny had ever seen one and not one he recalled of the Stan from his childhood, how  _ had _ his friend changed with time? “What makes some weirdo in a mask more interesting than Kyle?”

Very defensive. Frustrated, even. How attached was Stan to the stupid rude kid?

Kenny mimicked Stan’s pose, “Hey, if you want to suck his dick, go ahead. It’s not my business. No one’s stopping you.”

Stan  _ choked _ and that was something remicient of the boy he’d known. The one that was easy to shock with crude words.

“That’s not evenly  _ remotely _ \--dude, I’m just sick of him mooning over some snobby bitch who’s literally  _ always _ got something crammed up her ass!”

There are moments in time when controlling one’s temper is absolutely pivotal in avoiding the creation of new problems. Where there are more important matters in life than petty high school dramas and where one should probably spend some time focusing on the important parts of life. When one should think about their audience.

Kenny was savvy to this. He normally prided himself in conflict resolution, his family gave him plenty of first hand experience. And yet, in this particular moment in time, he lost his shit.

“ _ At least I’m not an insensitive asshole who doesn’t give a flying fuck about his friends _ .” Kenny hissed, invading Stan’s space to glare directly into now increasingly confused blue eyes, “At least I  _ actually _ care about people, you giant shitty self-centered  _ bitch _ !”

Stan’s own temper flared with the confusion, “Dude, I’m  _ literally _ here speaking up for my friend, what the fuck gives you the right to call me a shitty friend? You don’t even know me!”

It was cold, somehow.

The whole hall felt cold.

Inside felt cold, outside felt icy, and his brain held back every reaction in a screeching slam on the breaks.

Maybe he’d just held out some hope that Stan hadn’t utterly diregarded the friendship they’d had since they were in diapers. Maybe it was too fresh a wound.

Maybe he had thought a lot about the other boy, thought something special here and there, and looked forward to his triumphant return.

Maybe he’d kinda hoped that as cute as he looked in a dress, maybe he’d look cuter than Wendy.

Maybe he’d just been holding out for a moment when Stan would come out and say that their friendship  _ had _ been important.

Instead it was cold.

“You’re right.” Kenny’s voice shuddered with emotion, but his face remained impassive, “I don’t know you.”

The moment had too much charge to it and there was a concerned confusion in Stan’s face, he didn’t wait to see how it worked itself out, he was just some ‘bitchy snob’ to Stan, right? That’s okay.

That was perfectly okay.

He looked away and tugged at his collar, he wanted a drawstring to pull at but he still hadn’t worn the signature of his youth. The safety blanket away from pain.

He was adorable and he was nobody.

It burned at the core of his thoughts, surrounded by the numbing ice of pain was the inferno of loss.

“And I don’t want to know you.”

He walked away without waiting for a response, keeping his head down and trying to make it to history. If he made it to history, he could calm down and put on a mask.

If he made it to history he could let it go.

A hand gently rested on his shoulder and something skipped inside him, a dead hope somehow reviving even after everything.

And he turned to see the concerned expression of Wendy Testaburger.

Yep. Today was not ideal.

“...Kenny?”

There was something quiet in the way she said it, something distinctive, something like a realization. He swallowed.

Of all people to recognize him…

He tried to smile, it didn’t work. Wendy shook her head and guided him into the nearest bathroom.

“You’re Kenny, right?” She said, quietly, secretly, “Kenny McCormick who moved away?”

Kenny nodded, he didn’t really trust his words.

She smiled reassuringly, “It’s okay, I’m not going to tell anyone if you don’t want me to. I can’t believe it took me this long to put it together…I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that giant parka but seriously? A girl named Kenny transfers in from Japan? The same place Kenny went off to? It should have been obvious. I’m sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention…”

Kenny shook his head, he wanted to say it was okay.

But it wasn’t.

Everyone had forgotten about him like he didn’t matter.

It  _ hurt _ .

And the only one that had put it together was a girl that he had long held bit of a one sided rivalry with.

It was shameful. It was upsetting. It was heartbreaking.

“It’s okay,” Wendy pulled him in for a one armed hug, he hated that the touch did feel comforting, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Kenny nodded, ignoring the bell and hoping his history grade didn’t suffer for it. Wendy made no effort to move either.

Wendy had always stood up for people, for the concept of  _ right _ it was something he’d looked up to. Something he’d found heroic.

Something he’d wished he could embody.

“Your haircut  _ is _ cute, by the way,” Wendy said mildly, “Stan might have been a doofus about saying it, but I like how it looks short. I didn’t know you were blond, is it natural?”

Kenny nodded.

“I always assumed you were brunette like your siblings… huh, well, so much for deductive reasoning.” She squeezed his shoulder, “You know I consider you a friend, right? I know we were never close, but you’re someone I liked playing with as a kid. You, Stan, Butters, and even that stupid asshole Cartman. If you need a friend, you can talk to me, okay?”

It was soft and kind.

A stark difference than the passion he’d seen Wendy through into her causes. Into her now ended relationship. Into everything she did. He wondered if this was why she was so popular with the girls in school, did she reserve this kind of softness for them?

He gathered himself and pulled away from the embrace, class wasn’t going to go away just because he wanted to be a dramatic loser.

“Thanks, Wendy.” He didn’t know how to modulate his voice, it made him edgy, he couldn’t find the tone that suited the situation, he focused his eyes on the area just under her chin. “I might take ya up on that. I just…I’m being a bit dumb and petty right now.”

He could see her smile and it made him look up, “Stan has a way of bringing out the dumb and petty in the best of us. I have done some  _ crazy _ shit because of that boy.” She pat the small of his back companionably, “He’s kind of a basic bitch.”

“Oh my god, he totally is.” Kenny felt mirth tug at the corners of his face, “I would bet money that he has pumpkin spice lattes.”

Wendy snorted, “I don’t need to bet, I  _ know _ he does.”

This was okay, it was nice even. Even through the sting of Wendy knowing these things in the time he’d lost. Kenny smiled sincerely despite it all.

He could go to class and dish about Stan’s inability to be anything but basic on the way to class.

He could handle today.

Wendy held his hand just before letting him enter the classroom, “You can be dumb and petty for as long as you want, Kenny. Don’t worry about it.”

Kenny swallowed an emotion and nodded, “Thanks, ya’re alright Testaburger.”

“Bitch, you bet I am.” She threw him a wink and strut away, leaving him in the empty hall to enter the class.

He felt lighter, somehow, it was going to be a good day if he had to fight off damn space aliens to make it happen.

_ Found you, Princess _ .

Fuck.

\--

Maybe he hacked into the school database to figure out Kenny’s class schedule for the day. It was purely so he could figure out where he needed to go in order to protect her.

It still made him feel like an even bigger stalker.

When she wasn’t in history, he panicked.

[ _ To: Stan Marsh _

_ You’ve seen Kenny, right?? _ ]

If Stan was going to respond, he was quite decidedly taking his time with it, and Kyle didn't have the patience.

He sat on a ledge near the window to the classroom and closed his eyes.

Focus.

Breathe.

The history class was full of familiar people he'd known for years now, he reached farther into the school, the cluster of lives tingling at senses making a muddled mess of it.

There were emotions and people and each and every one of them had some distinguishing feature that ultimately made each and every one of them distinguishable from one another.

He probed and pulled. Trying to find the strange sensation he'd felt when he grabbed her.

That strange sickening darkness. The one that felt like it was crawling under her skin.

Three classrooms in his head started to throb, he  _ pulled _ for the sensation to come. There was the faintest  _ itch _ at the corner that felt like--

His eyes snapped open as the pressure within his skull threatened to burst. Not the best way to look for her, noted.

He looked down to his phone, just to check if Stan finally texted back.

A scream pierced the air.

It was followed shortly by  _ crash _ of broken school.

Kite had no trouble locating the source, it  _ pulsed _ for his attention.

He hated being right about things sometimes. With a burst of panic fueled energy, he crashed in the classroom he had been loitering outside of.

There it was.

Kite drew back momentarily, the night before had allowed him the gift of  _ not _ seeing details.

_ Grotesque _ was a kind word to use when referring to the creature in front of him.

The one that was very close to crushing screaming teens with its flailing tentacles.

Summoning up a powerful gust of wind, Kite pushed the creature out of the classroom momentarily, away from how dangerously close it had gotten to grabbing hold of Clyde Donovan.

Something red was pooled underneath it.

“Get out of here!” Kite shouted to the students and pointing to the window he was very happy the school couldn't make him pay for.

“We're on the second floor!” Tweek cried.

Kite through a desk at an approaching tentacle, “Yeah, well, I can't protect you guys and fight it at the same time, so figure it out!”

There was something red pooled under the creature and Kenny was nowhere in sight.

He positioned himself between the students and the  _ thing _ that belonged solely in lovecraftian nightmares. He needed a plan.

He needed to see who was  _ under _ it.

_ I've found, I win--! _

“Who are you, human?”

The voice travelled down his spine, a taunt, and a threat. It had strength in the weight of it's words. Strength that  _ crushed _ .

...the Princess had gone head to head with a beast like this?

“I'm Kite.” It sounded particularly lame in this exact moment.

“You're a fool.” If what it did next to be defined as laughing, it was probably a faulty dictionary, but all the same the sound was an attempt to mimic the effect of it.

Kite felt sick to his stomach.

If Kenny really was the Princess, she couldn't have been killed that easily, right?

Right?

“Yeah? Probably.” Kite felt the shaking in his limbs threaten to shatter him, but he placed a firm step forward. If bravado was all he had between himself and the cowering  students, he'd hold on until the last, “But I'm gonna kick your ass, yer garbage.”

He enucleated the sentiment with a gust of wind that sent the class trashcan straight into its… well, for the sake of simplicity, Kite was assuming that was a face.

This didn't seem impress the creature much but it did act as a solid and enough surprise that he was able to close the distance between himself and it's base some.

Whoever was under might,  _ somehow,  _ still be alive. He had to lift it.

This was the one trick he's actually gotten quite good at. Touching the pulsating mass with both his fingers and his mind, he lightened the load.

“What--” well it was nice he could surprise a lovecraftian horror terror.

As the creature thrashed with its tentacles, Kite was already flattening himself to the ground in order to see beneath.

For one horrible second he saw a prone body covered in blood as clear as day. He couldn't breathe.

He lost concentration and the full weight of the creature crushed the body below.

The resounding sound would haunt Kyle's nightmares.

He couldn't hear the cries behind him and he didn't move an inch as a massive tentacle sent him flying into a nearby wall.

Pain.

He'd seen, in action movies and various cartoons, the moment when person collides at full speed. The slowed down action. The dramatic hilt to the music.

He'd been in a variety of fights that had left him black and blue.

Nothing could have prepared him for the moment of impact. His breath imprisoned in his throat on faulty charges, his body convulsing forward to make up for the cracking underneath his skin, the inability to yell or cry out as another, swifter one hammered him further into the wall.

Suddenly the squished form of his schoolmate wasn't a heartbreak, but a premonition of his near future.

Faintly beyond the buzzing in his ears, he could hear Clyde start to cry.

It was a familiar wail. It wasn't just prevalent in Clyde's voice, but the sound of every child that truly feared.

The wind suction of dread.

The exhale that expressed every horrible emotion that kept Kite paralyzed with fear.

The last time he'd heard someone cry like that, it had been his baby brother.

Something  _ convulsed _ beneath his skin.

_ Ike _ .

If this thing took him out, who would be there to stop it?

No one.

He heard the roar before he felt the pain in his lungs.

They were probably damaged by all this, if he didn't at  _ least _ break a rib, his lung could have also collapsed.

Still he roared.

Through the pain.

Like battles for supremacy under bright skies.

Through the grief.

Like childish squabbles in the schoolyard.

Through the fear.

Like a certain dark vigilante that had bravely descended into the alley, regardless of the fate that awaited him and the hum of horror in his heart.

Energy burst through him, waves of the familiar green bubble he would use to cleanse his house.

Stronger. Thicker. Larger.

Carved with determination.

The thing flew back at the first wave, cowering beneath the strength of the second one.

It killed Kenny.

“You  _ bastard _ !”

Something dark formed out of the corner of his eye. It felt dark, long, familiar.

He stamped at it, waves of wind careening through the air at it and causing a shudder.

It was going to run away like it did last night.

No.

Not after what it had done.

He'd kill it. He'd kill every remaining echo of it.

It writhed under the weight, a sharp appendage piercing through the bubbling shield and just barely scratching Kites arm, he could laugh, how pathe--

A cry rang out and he realized with complete dread the students still stood behind him, terrifies, vulnerable, defenseless.

It took only that level of wavering focus for it to pop the bubble and escape to the abyss.

_ I'll get you, I'll eat you, I'll devour you, you, you,youyouyouyou--- _

Felt the thoughts ebb away as the portal snapped shut.

He should check on the injured student.

He rushed forward instead, searching for the remains of Kenny's battered body.

He blinked.

There was no blood.

There was no corpse.

He looked around, trying to see if he'd gotten the placement wrong or accidentally blown her away.

Nothing.

He must have imagined it in his panic.

The thought was somehow deflating in the same way it poured relief through his veins.

She wasn’t dead.

That was all he needed to know.

She wasn’t  _ dead _ .

The tension that had kept him standing dissolved and he almost collapsed right there, his descent coming to a stop when a strong arm caught him. He looked up to see Tweek and Clyde both holding him up.

He thought of the cry from before.

“Is everyone okay?”

Ow. Talking hurt. Shit, he really did fuck up his rib, didn’t he?

Tweek nodded, jittery, “GAH--Heidi got hitbut it was onlyagraze!”

Kite nodded, he wanted to lose consciousness right then and there. It would be a disaster if he did but the amount of energy he’d just used…he didn’t even know he had that much  _ in _ him. And the injuries he’d sustained weren’t helping.

“Hey, man, you can’t knock out.” Clyde pleaded, “Just, uh, don’t do that, okay?!”

Kite nodded but his eyes still felt heavy. He wasn’t going to have any control over this, was he?

Shit. His mom was going to kill him when his identity got out.

Shit. He was probably going to be a lab experiment because of his damn powers.

Shit.

_ Shit _ .

“I’ve got him.”

Kite’s eyes shot up at the sound of the voice and watched bonelessly as Mysterion effortlessly hefted him up and out of his schoolmates grip.

He could hear the murmurs of  _ Mysterion _ in the background. Damn. He’d done all the work and still this asshole got all the awe. What a dick.

Despite himself and every negative thought that wanted to take hold, Kite couldn’t hold in the immense relief as he sank into the familiar arms and let go of his consciousness.

He could wake up later. Everything could happen later.

Mysterion wasn’t going to out him. It would endanger him and Mysterion was all about keeping people safe, the damn heroic bastard he was.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Kite stirred but Mysterion remained still and stared at the sun retreating under the trees.

Getting Kite out of the school unnoticed without taking either of their costumes off was a feat he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to replicate. It involved ducking into at least a dozen bushes, a particularly rank bathroom, and at one point standing so still as to be a statue as a person walked past and somehow _didn’t_ see.

People could get really wrapped up in their phones, apparently.

Finding a place to safely wait for the guy to wake up had been equally challenging.

He decided on the roof of the local vet. It was close by, if Kite _really_ needed medical attention there was supplies nearby, and it was shaded from view of the street by the trees.

He remembered hiding up here with his friends to throw rocks at cars.

He remembered hanging out here with Stan and listening to him describe how he wanted to work with animals when he grew up, but he was scared of being a vet because of the possibility of his patients dying.

Kite stirred again and this time groaned as well.

It would have been so easy to remove his mask and the mystery. It would have been easy to figure out which kid had telekinetic windy powers and rock-hard abs that made Kenny’s current sleeping arrangements _very_ frustrating.

Instead he reminisced about times lost and listened to the labored breathing, keeping an ear for lasting damage that might threaten Kite’s life.

“Mysterion…?”

He nodded at the distance, still refusing to look away from the setting darkness.

“...How long have I been out?”

“A few hours, give or take.” Mysterion shrugged, “You were pretty banged up, but I figured I’d ask your permission before bringing you to a hospital.”

Kite let out a shuddering sigh, “I appreciate it. Did… did the creature leave?”

Mysterion nodded again.

Not before it had gotten him one more time. Not before he’d been torn in half.

But Kite’s interference had allowed him to get out from under the mass and get changed.

It felt stupid. Getting changed, he used to be able to transform instantly.

And it wasn’t like he was able to do anything to help.

So many people could have died and he would have been powerless to stop it. His clenched fist itched to find a surface.

“Do you know if Kenny is okay?”

That caught him by surprise and Mysterion finally looked over.

Kite flinched, “She’s… a student at the school, I thought I saw her, underneath it, I thought…” He shuddered and it caused a shot of pain to course through him.

Ah. The ribs. Mysterion felt sympathy for the poor guy. Breathing, talking, laughing, basically all things required for existing became a royal bitch when the ribs were damaged.

Mysterion nodded, hesitantly, “If you mean the blond girl, I saw her run away.”

It would be difficult to put exact words to the way Kite’s expression morphed, but Mysterion settled on puzzled, “That doesn’t sound like her…”

It was a good thing that Kite didn’t have enhanced hearing, though Mysterion was starting to wonder if the sound of his own heart was becoming loud enough for normal humans to hear at a distance. It was certainly causing a loud commotion in his own body.

“Most people run away from giant tentacle monsters. It’s common sense.” Mysterion said flatly.

Damn him, there was something _fierce_ in his eyes, “She’s not like most people. She’s really brave, okay?”

Ballsack.

He deeply regretted not taking advantage of the situation earlier to learn this boy’s identity because he had a sudden _need_ to know.

It wouldn’t be hard to figure out if he really put his mind to it. There were a limited number of gingers in the school and there had to be a smaller number with abs like that, add in details like height and who had been seen at the same time as Kite and it would be a cinch.

He didn’t want to do that though.

He wanted Kite to tell him.

Curse irrational emotions and all their facets.

“That’s a strong stance. She your girlfriend or something?”

Kite clammed up instantly, posture stiffening and once again causing him to flinch from the pain the action caused.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Oh, well, if she’s brave, cute, and available…” Mysterion let his words hang as Kite’s eyes widened.

“ _No_ !” Ow, that one had to hurt, “I mean--look, okay, _maybe_ I like her. _Maybe_. God, why are you such a dick?”

Mysterion shrugged but despite the throb of glee at the knowledge, he felt a rock in his stomach.

It was labeled _unease_.

He’d hardly said a word edgewise to Kite as Kenny. Sure, they dealt with the Chaos situation together, but was that really _enough_?

He’d been very straight-forward as Mysterion. He’d met the hero on more than one occasion and had what could be constituted as a conversation. Much more than Kenny had talked to him at the very least.

Was gender the issue? That would continue to be an issue then.

Or was it that Kite only liked ‘her’ for a pretty face?

“Huh,” he said and returned to looking for the departed sun as evening became their only companion.

How could he feel on top of the world and at the bottom of a ditch all in one?

Kite _liked_ him.

But also he didn’t.

He brought his knees up and rested his chin on them.

“Is there something wrong with that?” Kite said defensively, after enough silence had passed to make it awkward.

“No. Kids your age have crushes. It’s natural.”

“How do you know I’m a kid?” Kite bit back.

Mysterion couldn’t hold in a chuckle, “So you’re a full grown man leering at a high school girl?”

Kite didn’t answer immediately, there was no good answer. One side would confirm personal details about his identity and the other would make him out to be a complete creep. Mysterion was pretty proud of this one.

“...Goddamnit.” he said finally. “Let’s just not talk about it, okay?”

Mysterion shrugged, “Fine by me.”

The silence stretched. It wasn't unpleasant, per se, it was interrupted by the occasional hiss as Kite assessed the damage to his ribs.

Mysterion was the one to break it.

“How were you able to get that thing to retreat, anyway? I saw a green glowing thing coming from you but what is that?”

Kite was silent.

“I'm only asking because it's probably going to come back and we should probably be prepared. I'd like to know what our options are.”

“First of all, we're not a team so there is no 'our’.” Ouch, “Secondly… I'm not sure myself.”

Kite really wasn't great at this, Mysterion had to acknowledge, first try to alienate a potential ally and then follow it up by revealing a weakness.

He was seriously lucky that he was cute. With brains like those… or maybe the better word was tact like that…

“Well, _you_ ,” Mysterion put the emphasis on it a bit more than he had to, “Had better figure it out then, because if it showed up last night and this afternoon…”

Kite nodded.

“Thanks, by the way.” Kite muttered, “For getting me out of there. You didn’t… I mean, my identity--”

Mysterion shrugged, “You’re some random student at that high school, right? Even if I _had_ peeked under the mask, which no, I did not, I wouldn’t know who you are.”

It was purposefully misleading but Mysterion was much more used to keeping a wrap on his identity than this kid was.

“Thanks.” There was conflict in his voice, what it was over Mysterion didn’t really care to investigate, he was definitely pouting, “This sure got crazy, huh…”

Mysterion shrugged. His life had always been crazy. If it wasn’t a curse it was demons in the streets of Tokyo. He wasn’t sure he knew what normalcy felt like.

Though maybe it was something like having a casual conversation with the guy he likes while watching the stars begin to blip into existence from seemingly nowhere.

Or maybe something like, with falling stars, or...

A meteor shower.

That sounded nice and normal. Invite a significant other to watch a meteor shower together, cuddle up on a picnic blanket, maybe get a bit kinky under the stars.

Mysterion smiled into his knees. That sounded nice and normal. It wasn’t going to happen, not all things considered, but he could spend a minute imagining what it might be like to run his hand through those curls framed by the night sky…

“You’re a really quiet person.” Kite noted, sticking his legs over the edge of the building. Small towns were great for closing everything early. Already pedestrians were scarce and the noise of the town had fallen into a hum, “Don’t you have anything to say?”

What a rude way to put it. Mysterion’s smile only grew despite himself and he was sure to hide it in the folds of his cowl.

“Lots.” he said.

“But?”

The shrug almost knocked over his carefully balanced position, “But nothing, I can have lots of things to say and choose not to say any of it.”

“Huh…” Kite’s expression darkened a bit, “That’s lucky.”

That wasn’t quite the response he’d been expecting, “How so?”

Kite smiled, but it was bitter and small, “Being able to keep it all in like that. When you’re someone that can’t… when you just say what’s on your mind and speak passionately about your beliefs, it just--it can cause a lot of problems.”

“You don’t seem particularly talkative to me.” Mysterion noted.

Kite gave a derisive snort, “I’ve been working on it. A lot. I still fuck up, _a lot_ . But I’m working on it. Don’t tell people what I really think, don’t tell people what I learned, don’t preach whatever subject I found particularly interesting and want to pick apart. Don’t, don’t, don’t… it’s--it’s hard to _breathe_ under those circumstances, ya know?”

It was hard to formulate a response.

There are times when a person says something that is relatable and one can jokingly declare ‘same’.

Then there are times when it cuts a bit deeper beneath the surface and reveals a festering wound that had been awaiting the time it could rear its head up once again.

“Yeah.” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so thick but if Kite noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“And I always--” Kite stopped, biting his lip, “I’m doing it again though, talking too much about crap that’s better kept inside.”

Mysterion couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

“I want to hear it.”

Kite’s eyes were wide and it was that green he could get lost in. Shit. It would be nice to be able to kiss him.

That would be dumb though.

“Oh.” Kite shuffled, kicking his legs over the ledge, “That’s weird.”

“Is it?”

Kite’s shoulders sank and his voice was quiet in a strange way, “No one else wants to hear it, is all.”

He was kind of breathtaking. Mysterion had labeled the guy hot easy enough. Attractive personality came without saying.

But he was seriously breathtaking.

Speaking from his heart despite the damaged ribs that caged it with the broken will that echoed Kenny’s own insecurities. The dim lighting of the stars glowing on his cheeks and in his eyes.

It stole Kenny’s ability to think logically.

Luckily before he did something truly foolish, Kite was looking to the streets in alarm.

“What the hell is he doing out so late?”

Mysterion followed his gaze and saw Stan Marsh marching down the street in the general direction of his home, looking pained and upset.

A stab of the pain from earlier reasserted itself and Mysterion held it in. Instead letting Kite lead the observations.

“Where is he coming from? That’s not the direction of the school…” Kite murmured, looking troubled.

Mysterion did a mental check of the geography of the town, and he found only three options he would know of. Though, clearly, Stan had changed significantly in the past few years so it could have been a whole slew of places that Kenny didn’t know about.

He couldn’t help feeling bitterness over that.

Kite sighed, the motion reminding him of the pain of his ribs. Mysterion guessed they were only bruised though, if they were broken the boy would have had much more trouble.

“I should get home. And make sure that kid gets home safely,” he said, “Walking home alone this late at night when who knows where or when that stupid tentacle monster is going to return… what an idiot.”

There was something fond in the way he said that. Mysterion wondered briefly if he knew Stan--

\--another redhead came to mind.

Mysterion physically shook off the thought, there was no way.

Kyle was a stupid punk with no idea how to handle himself, Kite was--Kite was something else.

Also, only an idiot would make their codename only two letters away from their real name. Kite might be a bit socially inept, but he wasn’t a _moron_.

Besides, who knew if Kite was really a redhead? It would be _pretty_ dumb to run around with a distinguishing feature like that on full display. He could very well be wearing a wig to throw people off.

Stan was a social guy, everyone in the _grade_ at the very least knew who he was and had something of a good opinion of him. Sans Tucker, but Tucker was kind of a dick so he didn’t count.

“Good call.” Mysterion said in lieu of a goodbye as Kite climbed down.

He stayed on the rooftop long after Kite had disappeared.

He was definitely getting in too deep over some dumb eye-candy. Ass and abs, that was Kite’s appeal.

Not the soft way he spoke about his insecurities.

Not the adorable way he preened when Mysterion showed interest.

Ass and abs.

If he keeps reminding himself, it might become true.

Karen greeted him enthusiastically as soon as he made it home. Apparently Kevin had work but she had been worried.

“Dude, it’s been maybe a month and your school has had _how_ many emergencies?”

Kenny did a mental count, “Two?”

“Mine hasn’t had one,” she said.

“Below the belt,” he gave her a half-hearted noogie and they settled up on the couch that more or less made up his bedroom. He liked to think he’d succeeded in laying claim to it, it was adorned with his accessories that no one dared to move and he’d managed a rather fluffy blanket to make up for the lack of comfort the couch itself offered.

“So? How are people reacting to your hair?” Karen shifted anxiously, eager to hear the good news. Or maybe she just wanted praise for her skills in helping the trim.

“Not much, actually?” It was a bit anticlimactic, if Kenny was honest. He’d half expected people to all point it out loudly and declare his clear boyishness. Or perhaps even just be an asshole about short hair on girls.

He’d gotten one or two compliments from school chums, David had politely mentioned that it suited him and Annie had given her seal of approval. Nothing else though. Aside from the whole thing with Wendy and Stan, but that was a whole other _thing_.

Karen looked put out.

“They liked it.” Kenny assured, smiling as she perked up, “I guess I was just expecting more of a reaction.”

She giggled, “I know that feeling. When I did that whole little vampire thing and dyed my hair, I expected the school to _flip_ but no one so much as blinked an eyelash.”

“Well, _I_ flipped out.”

“Yeah.” Karen said dryly, “I remember.”

“I _said_ I was sorry.”

“Mm-hm. _After_ you drove away my friends. Ass.” there was no real bite to her words and it eased something in him.

It always did. Something about Karen stole away the tension that threatened to break him and tossed it over a bridge, pumping its fist in the air proudly at a job well done.

They settled in to watch a movie and Kenny let the weirdness over Stan and Wendy and hair wash away to a wonderful shitty action flick and the comforting cuddles from his baby sister.

He honestly had no idea what he would do without her.

\--

Bruised ribs suck ass.

Secret bruised ribs are even worse.

It was potentially the only advantage of his suspension that he could lie motionless at home and wait for the pain to recede without anyone asking inconvenient questions.

That was until his mother returned.

In a few more hours.

His ribs hurt worse in the anticipation of it.

So far as he could tell, in the days since there had been no more tentacle monster incidents. Which was a relief, he really didn’t think he could take it on again after such a short recharging period. Not to mention healing.

Ike had been had actual godsend the past few days and made it so that he had to move at the absolute minimum.

Impatience hummed beneath his skin though.

The longer he was laid out doing nothing, the more work he _could_ and _should_ be doing to figure out what the actual fuck was going on in South Park was being delayed.

He wondered, not for the first time, if maybe he’d cracked one of his ribs but neither he nor Ike had been able to feel a fracture in their probing.

He hoped that meant there were none.

His mom was going to give him a bone crushing hug as soon as she got back. He knew this as well as he knew his own name.

And then also lecture him for an hour about being suspended.

And when she noticed the way he kept favoring his ribs, she was going to _insist_ they go to a hospital and that was just going to be _it_.

He’d go to the hospital, the entire small town would know there was _something_ wrong with Kyle Broflovski’s ribs _mysteriously_ and the brighter people would recall the beating that Kite had taken.

Why did leading a double life have to be so very complicated? Mysterion made it look so easy. Probably some middle aged office worker who was used to lying to his wife and kids about affairs.

...it was so much easier to come up with wild insults to lob at Mysterion when he hadn’t actually met the guy. Kyle felt a stab a guilt as his unfair accusations.

Mysterion looked youthful, he was probably in his twenties, early thirties at the _latest_ , and he was also strangely thoughtful.

Obnoxiously heroic.

Kyle gets on his case about not being at the school during an emergency and then he makes it in record time to this one. Like a damn hero.

He hated to admit it, he was started to begrudgingly respect the guy.

More than respect, enjoy his company and support.

Was it weird that Mysterion being likeable was currently his least favorite part of the guy? He hated how much the guy was growing on him.

Should have just been an asshole like Kyle had already pegged him as.

His stomach did an uncomfortable gurgle that was thoroughly disruptive and prompted him to voice his disapproval, “Oh, quiet you.”

Would Mysterion still be so companionable when it came out that he was some shitty kid from Jersey who became a hero just to appease his own ego?

Probably not.

Kyle forced himself out of bed to find some food. Truthfully his ribs _did_ feel better. But better was a long way away from good and he’d only been able to take a short few days to recover.

No sooner had he stood then his phone buzzed from where it was plugged in next to his pillow.

Son of a bitch, now he had to lean over.

It was David.

The contents shook him.

[ _From: David_

 _Stan’s missing. Professor Chaos took him. Along with a few other middle school students and Jimmy Valmer._ ]

He didn't have time to breathe before his phone buzzed with more information but it all went over his head.

He shouldn't have let Stan investigate the Chaos thing alone, no matter how insistent he'd been. That was dumb.

He could have told Mysterion, the other night when they watched Stan come back from _who even knows what_ and he could have confronted Stan immediately.

It didn’t feel urgent at the time.

It was the feeling of being in a car spinning out of control on a dry street and for some bizarre reason, hesitating to put his foot on the break. Like he wanted to see where they were going or what they might hit before he started the procedure of stopping.

And by the time he’d seen the tree, it was too little, too late.

He didn’t have any way to contact Mysterion either.

Shit.

He was on his own and his ribs still throbbed and his mom was due to be back in only a few hours and Stan had been _taken_.

His fingers flew over the touchpad, sending David a simple _where_.

The answer wasn’t promising or informative, so it went out of his mind instantly and he scrambled to his desk to look through the information, or lack thereof, he’d gathered on Chaos’ operation.

Shit. _shit_. Kyle bit his lip so hard he could taste blood and still, nothing stuck in his mind.

Nowhere known had been active with the organization since the warehouse--

Kyle stopped his frantics, gears in his mind moving.

It would be stupid, going to a known location that had already been raided by the police. When he probably had bases that were unknown to vigilantes and law enforcement alike.

It would be loud. Dramatic. Like a statement.

That was what Chaos was all about, wasn’t it? _Look at me_ , _look at what I can do_ , it’s all a PR stunt and _also_ it’s personal.

This is the second time he’s targeted Stan specifically. Whoever Stan thought he recognized as Chaos was most definitely at least related to him.

Jimmy Valmer was in the school paper, right? Kyle’s fingers danced across his keyboard for confirmation.

Loud. Insane. A _statement_. Witnesses.

It would be utterly nuts to use that particular location. It would also be poetic.

Kyle changed into Kite, mind still running circles around the insane notion. It was worth checking out, at least. See if he was right. If he was wrong, he could at least search the place for clues.

One thing did ring through his mind in echos, the knowledge that _if_ he was right, it was _definitely_ a trap. One lain for him.

And maybe Kenny. She’d taken his eye.

He couldn’t check up on her, though, David would have told him if she was among the ones taken. She had to be safe.

She had to be.

He took to the air, paying no mind if anyone saw him fly out of Kyle Broflovski’s window, and covered the distance between his house and the shady warehouse district in what felt like an eternity.

The thoughts circled.

Stan was in danger, he’d almost been thrown off a building last time.

Why _hadn’t_ Stan been thrown off? Clearly they weren’t squeamish about killing kids, they’d sent Kenny to her doom moments later and they hadn’t even noticed Kite’s approach at that time.

This was personal.

He landed on the closest rooftop he dared. There was no room to be sloppy about this, if he ran in without any recon, Chaos might just accidentally drop Stan into the vat of sharks or whatever insane shit he was sure to have in there.

And he was definitely in there. From here, Kite could see the familiar uniformed minions circling the perimeter with their bizarre weapons.

Something fell heavily next to him and he almost topped himself over the edge in surprise.

“We have to get in there.” Mysterion growled, more emotion hanging in the voice than Kite had ever heard from him previously. It was as startling as the initial sound, “ _Now_.”

“Hold on--” Kite’s words died in his throat as Mysterion’s gaze tore over to him, a fire burning beneath the fiercest blue, a hand reached up and grabbed the fabric of his costume, “This isn’t up for debate, _kid_ . We’re getting in there. _Now_.”

It wasn’t the intimidation that did it, though Kite would be a dirty liar if he didn’t admit that there was something terrifying about being on the other side of Mysterion’s wrath, but the erratic way that Mysterion couldn’t hold still. The slight tremor in his hand.

Kite nodded, recalling the mention of the junior high students that had been taken as well.

Was it Jimmy? One of those kids? Stan?

Someone in there _mattered_ to Mysterion, so much so that all calm had left the stoicism locked in a basement while blind determination took its place.

“Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll get in there, but quietly, so we can assess the situation. I can get us onto the roof, can you get us in the door?”

Mysterion nodded rigidly, and Kite hooked an arm under him without asking. It didn’t have the normal thrill of carrying the vigilante though.

Mysterion was definitely shaking.

Behind the fire in his eyes was the oozing sensation of fear that nearly paralyzed Kite with its intensity.

He waited for the best time to avoid being seen by the guards below and made it to roof, Mysterion wasted no time untangling himself and began to pick the lock.

Maybe he’d been right about a middle aged man having a crisis, maybe one of the children in there was a son or daughter. A niece, nephew, sibling… Kite’s gut twisted and the successful click of Mysterion breaking in wasn’t nearly as relieving as it should be.

What kind of skill was lock picking for a hero, anyway? It suited him though.

Mysterion was in the door the second it opened, all rushed panic but still somehow walking soundlessly.

If this didn’t end terribly for the both of them, Kite was going to have to ask him about his shoes and see if he could get himself a pair. Quiet feet were definitely an asset to this gig.

They heard Chaos’ voice before they found anyone.

“-- _thus_ it will be be shown that your petty grasp to status quo will be your undoing--!”

It felt like anytime he popped an ear to listen to this guy he was on some insane rant. Kite would find it boring if the guy wasn’t ten levels of scary in addition.

The upper rafters of the warehouse were well managed. Clean, stable, honestly if they were in this condition, it hardly made sense not to have guards up here as well. There were stairs and ladders, and considering he _had_ to have known Kite could fly...

Kite’s mind didn’t work quite as fast as he wanted to. It was a truly belated moment in time to remember the word _trap_.

“ _Now_ , I think it’s time we invited our guest down.” Chaos’ voice boomed with a giggle.

It was a surprisingly high-pitched giggle, a childlike glee rather than a mastermind.

He caught Mysterion’s eye with his own and dived forward to catch him just as the rafter gave way.

They fell for just an inch before Kite had them righted and looked at the situation below.

Too much time spent still.

Pink goop fired at them from all directions and truthfully, Kite hadn’t mastered the art of flying _and_ controlling wind at once.

The impact of one shot in particular sent them barreling to ground, cushioned by the goop that now had them.

Oh, rib pain. He’d _almost_ forgotten about that in the chaos and now here it was stealing his breath and reminding him why the ribs _shouldn’t_ be in high impact situations.

“Aw gee, did you think we didn’t have security cameras?” Chaos’ voice was chiding, Kite looked up in time to see him still waving a finger disapprovingly.

Mysterion growled ferociously and Kite felt it against his chest, the goop trapping the vigilante right there, “Where are your prisoners, you psycho?!”

Chaos smiled benevolently, “Safe. For now. Disarray!” He waved at something that Kite couldn’t see from his angle and there was the sound of metal scraping as a mechanism whirred to life.

An actual human sized cage was lowered down, and Kite could see Jimmy and the children in there. Gagged and struggling against bonds.

Mysterion’s breath hitched, eyes locked on the cage.

“See, I have something _special_ planned for you hero types, and I needed to let the press know.” He gestured to the group and Kite realized with complete alarm that one of the children looked _very_ familiar, “Not that all of them have to live to tell the tale.”

What was her name? He didn’t remember her name. It was definitely her, though. She shared her sister’s blue eyes and her brother’s brown hair. The youngest child in Kenny’s family, so far as Kite knew, was among those trapped.

“Chaos.” Darkness crept from Mysterion’s voice, a promise as well as a threat, “Why don’t you see how well you fare against me without these tricks? Prove you can take me down, one on one?”

With the amount of menace Kite could feel literally _radiating_ off of Mysterion, anyone would be an idiot to take that deal. Chaos’ expression also flickered, something fearful of pain, and he giggled it away, a touch nervously.

Kite picked apart all the faces in the cage but not one of them was the one he was here for.

“Where is Stan Marsh?” Kite demanded, heart bleeding ice at the thought he was here too late.

Chaos blinked at him owlishly, like he’d spoken a whole different language. “Stan?” He smiled, it was a blend of every terrible emotion that could mar the parts of his face that could be seen from beneath the helmet and bandages, “Oh, he’s somewhere _special_.”

Mysterion squirmed urgently against him, it made the entire experience more uncomfortable, and seemed to only serve in getting goop further stuck on them. It would drip and ooze, finding the cracks it missed and filling them.

There had to be a way out of this.

Kite closed his eyes and tried focus on the goob but it was too _slimey_. He couldn’t get a feel for it.

“Can you move it?” Mysterion hissed, apparently reading his expression, Kite shook his head just a millimeter and focusing harder.

Chaos’ horrible giggle filled the air, it made the impossible focus even worse, “General Disarray, prepare the camera. I think it’s about time we showed this town what we think of _heroes_.”

Chaos began on another one of his insane rants, probably to an unseen camera. Kite caught Jimmy’s panicked eyes from inside the cage.

This wasn’t going to end well for any of them.

There had to be a solution somewhere, something, somehow, the goop wouldn’t move and--

Mysterion pinched him, attracting his attention.

“Don’t focus on this shitty slime,” his voice was barely a whisper, almost entirely soundless, “Focus on unlocking the cage.”

Oh. That was pretty smart. Ultimately, that’s what they were there for. Kite nodded, shifting his focus and trying not to notice as Mysterion constantly shifted against him.

He felt like it would only make it worse, and he certainly felt more trapped than ever, but he wasn’t about to question a man with that wild a look in his eyes.

The lock holding the cage shut. He could try to open it. It was a long shot though.

It was a simple one, at the very least but Kite had never tried to open anything before. Maybe he could just snap it in half?

Mysterion’s groan tore his attention away from the task at hand, Kite remembered belatedly that he was more less crushing the other hero, “Sorry, am I heavy?”

“No--” Mysterion bit his lip, “Sorry, this is going to hurt.”

He felt toes against him and in one swift movement, they kicked his damaged ribs,  “Son of a--!” Kite couldn’t even finish the curse through the pain.

The propulsion sent Mysterion out of the trap. Minus cowl, shoes, and pants.

Mysterion wore briefs.

Huh.

Who knew.

“Chaos!” How the _fuck_ did the guy manage to still sound so menacing in this situation in that state of undress? He had a black bandana over his hair and the mask that still concealed most of his features but it came out looking like Zoro in his underwear. Mysterion sent him a quick look, gesturing towards the cage, and then back to the startled Chaos “This ends _now_. You’ll get out of my city and let these people go!”

“Wouldn’t you like that!” Chaos took a nervous step back, clearly this hadn’t fit into his plans at all, “Wha-what’re you all waiting for? Fire!”

Goop came from all positions once again but this time Kite was on the ground, he sent a tornado of wind to spin them away from Mysterion. One hit Chaos’ stupid cape, another, the cage he was supposed to be opening.

Son of a bitch.

He resigned himself to having to bend the bars. It would take more strength but he needed to get those people out of the line of fire before live rounds made themselves known.

He tried to ignore Mysterion chasing down Chaos, it was hard though. Every moment enunciated with repertoire, fighting, or laughter. The cage.

He took in a deep breath. He should be out there helping Mysterion.

Feel the bars. _Tear_.

The sound of scraping metal probably drew the attention of the entire warehouse, there was no time, he tore away the restraints on the captives, “Get out of here!”

Jimmy was the first to stumble to his feet and rushed towards him with the help of a redheaded child and Kenny’s little sister, “W-wha-what about you?”

Kite flinched, “I’ll figure it out, but I need you guys to get to safety! Do you know where they’re keeping Stan Marsh?”

Jimmy nodded, “Th-the-theee-theeeyyy--”

Kenny’s sister cut in, “He’s in the basement, I think.” she looked up to where Mysterion and Chaos were fighting with worry, “Is… is that Mysterion?”

Kite nodded absently, “Yeah, but you guys need to--”

She cut him off, “Dougie, get Jimmy out of here! I have to help!” She smiled at Kite in a reassuring but scared way, “I’ll go get Stan, okay?”

Another one of the middle schoolers took Karen’s place at Jimmy’s side, “Yo-you can’t, it’s too dangerous, Karen!”

Kite nodded, “He’s right. Just get out of here--”

She didn’t pay any mind to the warning and rushed off in the direction he assumed was towards the basement.

‘Dougie’ took off after her without hesitation, leaving Jimmy near collapse without the support.

Shit. Fuck. Damn. Kenny’s sister was going to die if he didn’t get the hell out of this goop, he looked back to the startled Jimmy, “Hey, do you think you could get ahold of one of those weird fucking guns? I have a feeling there’s a melt option.”

“Is that safe?”

Kite shrugged, it invited goop under his armpit, “We don’t have time for safe.”

Jimmy nodded and the trio moved out of site so Kite tried to catch sight of the battle still happening.

His heart nearly stopped.

They’d gotten up onto one of the ledges, Chaos had Mysterion against a safety rail with an unseen weapon aimed.

Kite took a shot in the dark and blew a wind at where he assumed the weapon was, it sent Chaos backwards and Kite let out a sigh of relief.

“Ho-hold still, okay?” Kite looked up and really, no one should look up to see Jimmy Valmer pointing a strange weapon at them. It was disconcerting.

“Do it.”

Jimmy fired and to his immense relief, the goop was loosening. It was also invading every crack in his body, but at the very least it was just a gross goop and not a hellish bind.

He sprung to his feet and rushed after where Karen had gone, he had to trust that Mysterion had the situation handled from here. There was a door that looked like it could lead to a basement so he went for it.

There were no lights on.

It gave him a thrum of anxiety to realize.

There were no lights on in this basement and that probably didn’t mean anything good for Karen or Dougie.

He stumbled down the stairs, almost falling before he remembered floating was a thing, and followed a faint glow at the bottom.

“--why, Dougie?!”

Karen sounded alarmed, he sped up.

“ _Shut up_ , you wouldn’t understand!” He assumed that was Dougie, his heart stopped.

There was Stan.

He could barely be seen by the dim glow of the basement but he was hung by chains in the corner and unconscious. Kite felt air reenter him when he noticed the way Stan continued to breathe in and out. In front of his prone form, Karen and Dougie were arguing.

And Dougie was armed.

He sprang forward, knocking the child down and grabbing the gun.

It was a _real_ gun, too, he realized with horror.

Dougie scrambled to his feet glaring, “None of you understand!” He said, backing towards the exit, “Chaos is _coming_.”

He made a run for it, Kite held Karen back from following.

“Why--?!”

He gestured towards Stan, “We have to help him first. We’ll figure out that dumb kid later.”

Karen clenched her fists but nodded, helping Kite to untie the ropes. In places, Kite just gave up and snapped them in half.

Stan’s full dead weight fell on them both and he grunted under the strain.

Yep. His ribs were _not_ going to be pleased after this whole fiasco. He hefted Stan onto his back in a piggy back, “We have to get him to a hospital.”

“And we have to help Mysterion!” Karen said, rushing forward and leading them up the stairs.

By the time they re-entered the main warehouse, it was madness.

There was goop everywhere, a lot of Chaos’ men were on the ground groaning, one looked like he’d had his teeth knocked out. It looked like Jimmy had made the smart move and gotten the other children out of there. Mysterion was facing off Chaos and Dougie, covered head to toe in scratches and bruises.

Karen gasped and went to rush forward, Kite stopped her, “I’ll go help him, you watch Stan, okay?”

She didn’t look pleased about that arrangement either but agreed to remain in an unseen corner with Stan.

Mysterion spotted him before he’d made any progress at all.

“Get. The. Children. Out. Of. Here,” he ground out, blocking a particularly vicious strike from Dougie.

“But--”

“ _Now_ , Kite!”

There it was. That flash in his eyes. Looking away from the battle cost him though and Chaos shot him with some electricity.

Kite shot wind at the pair, beginning a sprint that was stopped by Mysterion’s hand.

Holyshit. How was he standing? Kite remembered that electrical current. It had him floored for minutes. And here was Mysterion standing up and bringing up his fists in challenge.

“I’m not telling you again, Kite. Get them out of here. Now. You can come back afterwards.”

It was that moment that Kite made a bad decision.

Arguably, Stan and Karen were safe where they were in the corner and Mysterion was definitely _not_ safe. But, he’d reasoned, in a moment of foolishness, that Mysterion could hold his own for five minutes while he got them out of there.

He ignored Karen’s cry of protest when he scooped her up. He shouldn’t have.

He ignored the feeling in his gut that felt like this was wrong when he used the rest of his strength to get Stan as well.

He flew out at top speed, Karen pounding on his abused ribs the entire time, in hysterical tears. He got them onto a nearby rooftop to set down, worried they might get caught by nearby henchmen otherwise.

Karen was screaming.

“Go _back_ , go back _now_ ! He’s _hurt_ !” Kite set down Stan, ready to do just as she asked but something in him couldn’t help but wonder at the excess of concern, “ _Hurry_!”

“Why are you so upset?” He couldn’t help blurting out the question, like an idiot on the ledge, it didn’t make sense for just a normal Mysterion fangirl to become _this_ emotional over a stranger.

“ _He’s my brother_!” She screamed, blotchy tears staining her face an unhealthy red, “Go back now!”

Oh, shit.

Kite dived back into the building.

He can’t have been gone more than five minutes. And that was being generous.

But there was no Chaos, Dougie, or Mysterion. No matter where he searched, no matter how desperately he called out.

 


	10. Chapter 10

This was just plain embarrassing. It was one thing to get his ass kicked by monsters from beyond the abyss, but _Professor Chaos_? Come on.

Sure. The guy was intimidating in that ‘ _Hi, I’m utterly insane and impossible to predict_ ’ sort of way but in an actual one-on-one fight the guy lacked in _several_ departments. First and foremost being the ability to throw an actual punch. Going all out on this guy felt like bullying the scrawny kid in class that spent more time on his computer than he did talking to his loved ones. Basically, it shouldn’t have been evenly matched at all.

Except, Mysterion couldn’t resist checking to make _sure_ Kite got Karen and Stan out, a distraction that cost him.

What Chaos didn’t have in brawn, he more than made up for in gadgets and allies. It was _bizarre_ to have one of Karen’s school chums try to take off his head.

It was unsettling and distracting, and distractions were something that cost a person greatly up against Chaos. And now here he was, barely dressed, tied up in some broom closet, listening to the inanities of the average cult member from behind a door.

Thus far he'd learned that Sally’s birthday was next month and one cult member was absolutely terrified of her. She likes explosives to a scary degree, apparently. And she's inseparable from her cellphone.

It wasn't exactly the type of information that was going to get him out of this mess.

It was days like these he missed his respawn type deaths. Die, wake up in bed, no muss, no fuss.

Nope. He stayed with his body these days. For better or worse. If he had to guess the reason, it was probably something to do with the Princesses’ magical existence…

This was a train of thought for another day, he admonished himself. At the moment he should be figuring out a way to gnaw off his own arm. Or finish undoing the knot at his wrist.

It was only a matter of time before even someone as certifiable as Chaos realized that _unmasking_ a vigilante would be the best sort of PR stunt, if he wasn't preparing for that exact course of action.

There was something that bothered him about Chaos too. Something weirdly familiar. Considering he kept targeting Stan it was a safe bet that Kenny had met him…unless Stan was making super villain enemies while Kenny was gone.

It wouldn't be the most surprising change he's had to adjust to.

The door clicked, the only warning before a decked out General Disarray came in. Yeah, Kenny wondered how he hadn't seen it before, Dougie was _definitely_ Disarray.

Also, he had apparently thrown Kenny off a building so yeah. Middle schoolers these days are fucking terrifying.

“The professor will see you now.” There was a bit of a nasal sneer to the voice, too confident, too sure.

“Oh, is it time for my prostate exam?” Mysterion chirped, wholly out of character, “Kinky.”

It got him the desired disgust. He was tempted to push it farther and maybe hobble over to turn the tables on the little creep, but there was the metal box he'd come to associate with mind numbing electric shocks and that wasn't really on Kenny's to do list at the moment.

Bide his time, find an opportunity, exploit their weaknesses. Besides, he'd already worked out Disarray’s identity, the more time he spent with Chaos, the more likely he'd be able to work out the other end to the duo.

“Laugh it up all you want now, _Mysterion_ ,” he said the name with such disdain, it was a little impressive, “Soon the whole world will know who you are.”

“If one shit backwater town counts as the whole world, yeah, that's true.”

 _Ow_.

As it turned out, Disarray did not hesitate to strike when insulted. It shouldn't have brought Mysterion as much satisfaction as it did to know he'd gotten under his skin.

Knowing little weaknesses probably wouldn't do him much good either but it was nice.

What did do him some good was dramatically collapsing after being struck. It prompted Disarray to have the two guards at the door to begin dragging him away to _face his fate_.

God, how dramatic. At this point in his life, he's had the unique opportunity to face his fate an uncountable amount.

It just wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

“Hurry up.” The guard he could only assume was Sally hissed, displeased at the lag.

Just to be a little shit, and to assist his own machinations, Mysterion stumbled over himself and nearly sent all three of them to the ground.

“What’s the hold up?” Disarray snapped, the sound drawing attention away from Mysterion.

Ah, somedays plans just went too well.

Mysterion slipped backwards and out of the laughable grip of his captors.

It wouldn’t have gotten him far, what with the rope around his legs forcing him to hop, but the explosive he held up triumphantly did all it needed in making the other three freeze in their tracks. Oh, a grenade. Easy to use. Mysterion counted this as a stroke of luck.

Sally touched her belt where it had been detached from, a dawning horror in her expression.

“I’d run.” Mysterion suggested to the trio, who were already backing away.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Disarray spat, but he still took a cautionary step backwards. Sally and the other guard took two.

See, _normally_ , maybe not. Maybe he’d do everything in his power to make sure he didn’t mortally injure his opponent.

 _Normally_ he wasn’t still holding a mountain sized grudge over some fucking cult kidnapping his sister.

“Your loss.”

With a smile that he was sure didn’t meet his eyes, Mysterion pulled the pin.

“ _Run_!”

That was all Mysterion heard before the explosion went off that he was the epicenter of.

The thing about grenades is that the shrapnel was the real issue, if you weren’t ground zero. The explosion wouldn’t go far, but the shrapnel from it was sure to hit at least one of the assholes at this distance.

Oh, and they’d probably have some nasty burns.

All in all, Mysterion would call it a win.

The shattering pain from the explosion was short lived and he experienced the sweet embrace of death.

Well, more like he could see the skeletal figure loom over him with a non expression that seemed to scream ‘ _Really, McCormick?’._ But he winked at his longterm enemy and allowed for fate to decide what to do with him.

Send him back immediately, give him a few months in an afterlife, or send him to limbo to think about what he’d done.

He can’t have much of a body to come back to just yet.

Something crawled at the edge of his senses.

 _We’re closer than ever, Princess_.

Yep.

Nope.

There was something specifically vulnerable about being dead. Kenny always knew what the end of the rope was for him in life but in death? Who knew what the ‘soul’ really was or what its limitations were.

That was why the sensation of something _cold_ and _hot_ and _eternal_ caressing his noncorporeal cheek was enough for him to give Death the most pleading look he dared.

The hooded figures shoulders slumped, the universal sign for _fine, you win_.

And within an instant he was in the hallway with the remains of his clothes. There weren’t really much left to them.

At all.

He sat up, eyes shooting around the room for signs the trio. There was a trail of blood but apparently they’d made themselves scarce in the time he’d been out.

It was impossible to compare the time he’d been out to reality. It might feel like minutes to him and be years in actuality. Or vice versa.

Death was a weird motherfucker.

Mysterion felt for his mask and was rather unsurprised to find nothing but crumbling remnants.

Footsteps thudded down the hall and Kenny decided it wouldn’t be in his best interest to be caught naked and out of disguise in the hall.

He ducked back into the broom closet, making sure to close the door silently behind him.

There was garbled arguing from outside the door, doubtless they were trying to find signs of his corpse, and Kenny sighed.

Broom closets were not known for containing a whole lot of useful contents.

This one had the phone he'd managed to knock off of Sally's belt as well.

These guys were such amateurs. It was a complete embarrassment to get caught by them.

\---

Kevin was captured.

And it was all his fault. He made sure the hysterical child got home safely. Karen barely managed a word past her cries. She insisted that Kite go back and check again. He only left her because her mother had greeted them outside of the home and taken the child into a her arms.

He held off on taking Stan home. He needed a better base of operations than crappy public bathrooms, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and it was the only place he’d been able to find where he could stash emergency changes of clothes or in this case, unconscious friends that he needed answers from.

He probably needed some form of medical attention. He’d been strung up in that basement for at least a few hours and it didn’t look like Chaos had been kind to him in the meantime. Nothing was life-threatening though. Which left the options open.

Unfortunately, Kite didn’t have the luxury of being kind to him in this instance either, “Wake up.”

He splashed a bit of water on Stan’s face to make the point.

Stan stirred and opened his eyes bearlily, peering around in confusion, “Kite? Where are we?”

“Public bathroom at the park.” Kite shrugged, leaning against the door to make one more subtle point clear. No one was going anywhere without answers. “I’m taking you to the hospital, but first I need you to tell me; who is Professor Chaos.”

Stan flinched back, “I--why would you think I know that?”

“Because you do.” Kite considered revealing his own identity but it could serve to only complicate matters more, he didn’t have time for complications, “He keeps coming after you for a reason, why?”

Stan bit his lip and Kite wanted to take back his words. He wasn’t sure he’d seen his friend ever look this vulnerable and cornered.

He looked like Kite had just ordered him to kick a damn puppy.

“He’s… an old friend. I think--I think he went through some shit and he blames me for it.”

“Why does he blame you?”

Stan shrugged but his eyes darted away guiltily, ah, there was definitely something.

Kite tapped his foot impatiently and it startled Stan into speaking again, albeit hesitantly.

“He…he came to me for help, one time.”

“So? It’s not your obligation to help him. That doesn’t explain all this.”

“It was pretty bad.” Stan curled in on himself, “Some heavy shit with his parents I think? They--they’re bad people, and it all kind of came to a head before he stopped coming to school. I don’t know the details, I’ve heard rumors here and there, but he came to me, before he disappeared. He asked for help.”

Stan’s voice cracked.

“Butters _never_ asked for help. Not really, he’d offer help to anyone that asked but he very rarely asked for anything at all unless it was bad. Unless he was honest to god scared for his life.”

The silence was heavy, whatever was weighing on Stan next was clearly enough that it was choking down the words even as he tried to bring them out.

Kite wanted to be a friend for him in that moment.

It was a bit more important to be a hero though.

“So?” he pressed.

“I told him--it was around the time my parents were getting divorced again and--a lot of stuff was going on, okay?” The excuses sounded weak, it wasn’t the weight of the words. Kite had nothing but sympathy for Stan’s family situation, but it was the way he said the words that sounded weak, like he didn’t believe they made it better at all, “I told him he was a melvin and I didn’t want to be dragged down by how lame he is.”

Kite blinked.

“What? That was it?”

That can’t have been it.

Chaos was off his damn rocker and the grudge had to be deeper than an insult like _lame melvin_. At the very least Stan’s guilt was too heavy for just that.

Stan stood up, “You don’t get it. He didn’t _have_ anyone else. There was just me and Cartman--and you _know_ Cartman.”

Okay, Kite could concede that having Cartman as a childhood friend would be enough to traumatize anyone, but not the guilt.

“Is that really all? An insult while your parents were getting divorced? This is wildly out of proportion for that.”

“It’s not just--I said some other stuff, okay? It wasn’t okay. And he was so _scared_. And then he just disappeared…”

“And?”

Tears built in Stan’s eyes, “And nothing. I didn’t look for him. I didn’t reach out. I didn’t do _anything_. I just let whatever it was happen to him and tried to forget about him.”

Ah, that definitely explained some of the guilt.

“What happened to him?”

Stan clenched his fists, “I--I’m not entirely sure, but I went to his place the other night, to see if his family still lived there? And--it was freaky. His parents have always been freaky. They said they’ve been homeschooling him but I know they both work. And--there was this smell? Like bleach. Just _everywhere_. When I asked if I could see him, they said he was grounded.”

“Okay?”

“I snuck up to his room when I asked to use the restroom and it was empty. But there was blood in there, and he had these apology letters written on his desk? They were covered in blood but--from what I saw he was apologizing for being injured.”

That took a full moment for Kite to fully digest.

When it did, his head was reeling. Kenny had damaged Chaos’ eye.

The idea that a boy around his own age had come home with those injuries, been sent to his room and been forced to write an apology while still bleeding…

“Wait, if he wasn’t in his room…?”

Stan shrugged, “His dad caught me and told me to get out. So I left but--”

Oh, god, please let this not get any worse.

“--I heard rattling from the basement.”

Of course it got worse.

Kite inhaled sharply, taking apart the information.

Nothing excused Chaos’ current behavior. It was dangerous, deadly, and he deserved to serve time for his crimes.

He had to remember that.

He was still struck with the pervasive thought that Chaos needed help, not punishment.

“What’s his real name?” Kite said finally, trying to keep his voice as level as possible.

Stan’s shoulders sagged, “Butters Stotch.”

“Butters? Really?”

“I think his real name is Leo?” Stan shrugged, “But even his parents call him Butters.”

“Do you know where he might have gone? He took Mysterion.”

Stan gasped, “Seriously? Shit…uh, I'm not sure, to be honest. I didn't know anything about the first place he took us. He just kept raving about showing everyone…”

It was worth a try. And Kite couldn't really call it a waste of time considering the amount of information he'd learned that could help take the guy down.

He reminded himself that they tried to kill people, because otherwise all he could think of was a crying and bleeding child locked in a basement.

“Okay, let's get you to a hospital--”

“No!” Stan protested, “Look, I can help, I think I can talk him down, I just--”

“He had you strung up in a basement. I’m pretty sure the time for talking is over.”

“That--” Stan’s fists clenched at his sides, “Just give me a chance, okay? I know I can reach him.”

Kite side and rubbed his temple, “Even if I _wanted_ to take you, which I don’t, I have no way of finding him. It’s better if you get your injuries treated. Your mom is probably worried sick.”

Low blow to use his mother, but Kite had already set the tone for not pulling his punches. He’d be sure to find Stan as Kyle after this was over and comfort him properly, but at the moment, he needed to find out if the name Butters Stotch could lead him to finding where Mysterion had been taken.

That was about when the two of them heard the muted booming sound.

“What was--” Kite didn’t listen the end, rushing out of the bathroom to look around.

It sounded something like a firework. The sky was bare of color.

“That was a grenade!” Stan followed after him.

“How would you know what a grenade sounds like?”

“Uh, my uncle Jimbo takes me hunting. A lot.” he didn’t look comfortable over it, Kite remembered him alluding to his discomfort over killing animals in previous conversations, “I’ve heard them a lot before. That one can’t have been far.”

Kite looked around the park. Children were either still in school or being kept home. Pedestrians were minimal and none looked as perturbed. It was probably closer to him and Stan then and inside a structure, where it couldn’t be easily seen.

There was Tweek Bros coffee, which was clearly open for business. Customers returning for the terrible coffee like an addiction. Next door and comparably unobtrusive there was the movie theater.

Which was closed.

Kite frowned.

He couldn’t recall the hours for the old place but he was pretty sure the this would be considered normal business hours.

“It came from the movie theater, I think.” Stan echoed his thoughts.

Damn. It was going to be much harder to shake off Stan.

“Chaos clearly has it out for you. Going in there is just going to give him what he wants and I don’t know if I can protect you and save Mysterion at the same time.” Not to mention the throb that still protruded from his abused ribs. This was not ideal.

Stan snorted, “Didn’t know you were such a Mysterion supporter.”

Kite froze. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

No one did skepticism like Stan Marsh. He had the expression down to an art. He had a special way of making the emotion escape from every pore.

“Yeah. Maybe I could have dismissed that the new superhero with _red hair_ and _green eyes_ having a thing for _Kenny_ as just a coincidence. It was a bit more believable since you seemed to really resent that they have a _thing_ going on.” Stan rolled his eyes, “But did you really think you could have a one-on-one conversation with in close quarters and I wouldn’t figure it out? And also, seriously, you’re the _only_ person who calls people cabbages.”

Kite ushered him back into the bathroom, whispering urgently, “You can’t tell _anyone_ , okay?! This--Stan, you can’t.”

“Relax. I’m not going to.” Stan pat his shoulder in a somewhat companionable way, “Look, I have questions, but right now we should really see if we can save Mysterion, right? And we should probably hurry up because if there are explosions happening inside the theater...”

“Got it.”

How were they going to get in there undetected though? Last he checked it had working security and…

“Hey, dude, any chance you can change into more normal looking clothes? I think I have a way to sneak us in.”

Yeah, he was going to have to give up on shaking off Stan. Though if he was totally honest, having one of his best friends took a lot of the edge off of the intense soul-crushing pressure.

\---

At some point, one has to love smartphones. Kenny might not be able to guess the password or hack the phone, but he could easily use the emergency setting to call 911 and make some distressing sounds.

Leave the line open and let them search for the source of the call using the GPS on the phone.

Technology was a wonderful thing.

He hid the phone behind a box to make sure no one hung it up but after that he had to make an important decision: modesty or identity.

His briefs were among the meager pieces of cloth to barely make it out of the explosion in one piece and he needed to cover his face.

“...This is going to suck.”

If someone kicked him in the balls while they were all hanging out, he was going to seriously amend his policy on murder.

There was more of a commotion outside of the broom closet.

Shit. It was only a matter of time before someone peeked in here. They had to be suspicious over the lack of fleshy parts left by the explosion.

No window. Lots of boxes but none large enough to hide him inside or behind. A mop that he might be able to use as a makeshift weapon. A vent.

Kenny looked down to his dick and back up to the thin vent.

Looked up.

Then down again.

It would be a tight fit. It was going to be such a tight fit that he was going to _seriously_ want some fabric between his favorite body part and the cold pinchy metal.

“I'm punching Chaos in the dick when this is over.” Kenny swore, clambering up to the vent and popping off the suspiciously unscrewed grate to come face to face with Kyle Broflovski.

Kenny stumbled backwards, barely avoiding falling over when Kyle's hand shot out and caught him in the knick of time.

“Wha--” Kenny modulated his voice, he was supposed to be Mysterion right now, “What are you doing here?” He hissed.

“Kyle, dude, move your butt.” Stan’s voice called from inside the vent.

“What in the hell…” Mysterion tried to climb down as silently as possible, eyes locked on the boys coming out of the vents and making _way_ too much noise about it. The only good news was that the panicked noises from outside the broom closet were louder. “What are you two doing here?!”

“We--uhh-- we wanted to sneak in to see a movie.” Kyle's eyes were very carefully staying on Mysterion’s face, or what could be seen of it through the white cotton.

Stan was less tactful and openly gaping, “ _Dude_ , where are your pants?”

“Be quiet.” Mysterions eyes darted to the doorknob but there was no sign of someone behind it. “There are Chaos’ men everywhere. Why the hell are you here to see a movie?”

“Uh, it's a movie theater?” Stan said.

It was a regretful moment in time where one could hit themselves.

He'd been in this damn room before. It had changed a bit over the years but he'd once snuck along those same vents with Stan, Butters, and Cartman to watch a variety of movies free of charge.

Was Chaos _trying_ to ruin a beloved childhood memory, or had he just gotten lucky?

And Kyle was taking off his pants. What the fuck. Oh, his Terrance and Phillip boxers were pretty cute though.

Kyle held out the fabric, face only a shade lighter than his hair, “Here, put these on. We can get out through those vents buts it's gonna be a tight fit.”

Oh.

Kyle had thought about his dicks well-being. In one fell swoop, Kenny forgave a full half of his misgivings about the guy. Anyone that put his dick into consideration was an okay guy.

Mysterion accepted the pants but shook his head while he put them on, “you two go back out through the vents. I'm staying here, if I don't stop Chaos now he'll continue to put children in danger.” Also, he was owed a dick punch.

Kyle's face pinched, “Don't be stupid! It's a wonder you're not more injured and you don't even have your disguise, get out of here with me and Stan, regroup, and kick his ass later!”

What was a wonder was how easily the two of them adapted to the situation. Most people would be a bit more surprised to run into a naked vigilante in a theater full of crooks.

Stan stepped forward, putting a placating hand on Kyle's shoulder, “Kyle's right. Let's call the police and have them deal with this. We need to get you out of here. And, um, some new clothes. Not gonna lie, the underwear on your head looks ridiculous.”

“I hadn't noticed.” Mysterion frowned, it wasn't an unreasonable plan… and it didn't look like these two idiots were going to leave without him.

The two of them were honestly attempting a rescue.

The handle jiggled, Mysterion whirled towards it, placing himself bodily between the teens and the door.

It opened and Mysterion saw a hint of blond before whoever it was froze at the sound resounding in the air.

Police sirens. Coming closer. Someone pulled at him and Mysterion was aware that now was definitely the time to make himself scarce. He was surprised the 911 operator was able to send someone so quickly…perhaps the kids also called the police.

Behind him he could hear the door open entirely and a variety of surprised sounds but he was too busy pushing Stan's butt into a vent and crawling in himself.

This was a much tighter fit than when he was seven.

He crawled after the teens as quickly as possible though, they were sitting ducks if one of Chaos’ men were smart enough to fire a weapon into the vent.

Luckily anything would hit him rather than his awkward rescuers.

“Almost there!” Kyle called urgently.

The rest sort of blurred together. They snuck out barely in time to avoid being seen by police and hid in a nearby park bathroom. Stan and Kyle arguing softly over something that he honestly couldn’t be bothered to listen to.

“ _Fine_.” Was all he finally listened in on before Stan retreated out of the grungy bathroom. Mysterion rested against a stall and tried to catch up with everything.

A few minutes ago he’d been dead. A few minutes after that he’d been trapped. Now he was in a random park bathroom with Kyle Broflovski of all people.

Wild.

“Where’s he going?” somehow he didn’t care about the answer but it was probably better to know than not to.

Kyle sat down against the door and faced him, looking every bit the stiff and awkward part of someone who didn’t want to be here, “He’s looking for something you can use to cover your face… and a replacement shirt. I don’t really think you want to head home looking like that.”

Wow. That was actually really thoughtful. Mysterion tried not to let it show on his face. Kyle Broflovski was either far more considerate than he’d given him credit for or Stan had grown an empathetic bone in his body. Or both?

Either way, he felt a nagging regret at how quickly he’d written off Kyle previously.

Speaking of the boy in question, he was pointedly looking anywhere and everywhere in the room that wasn’t Mysterion.

“What were you guys really doing there?” He had an idea but it was better to be sure, “You definitely weren’t there to watch a movie.”

Kyle shifted uncomfortably, “Stan--he came to my place after the Kite guy rescued him and he said he had an idea where Chaos was. He said you’d been captured and I dunno, we just kind of figured we should do something.”

“I thought you were of the opinion that I was…what was it? A ‘thug with a hero complex’?”

Kyle flinched back a bit, “I… I might have been a bit quick to judge you. I have a temper.”

“ _I have a temper_ doesn’t count as an excuse for shitty behavior.” Mysterion couldn’t help pointing out, “If having emotions equated to acting on them, my job would be a lot more intense.” Also he might have pinned Kite to a wall and made up for a lot of pent up energy, but that was probably not something he should say out loud.

There was a thoughtful frown on Kyle’s face, “You don’t pull punches, huh.”

“What point would there be in letting you make excuses?” Mysterion sighed and looked at the ceiling, “Small excuses lead to bigger excuses.”

One day it's _I’m having a drink after work, I had a bad day, I deserve this_ and in time it becomes _I’m not going to work, the system is rigged, I’m going to have a drink_.

And then there’s no one but an eight year old boy left to feed a household.

Mysterion might be a bit biased against the art of excuse-making.

“...That’s fair.” Kyle didn’t sound like he felt it was fair at all, but he just wasn’t his normal argumentative self.

Not that he could be entirely sure that argumentative was the normal for Kyle but the dude had definitely come off as hella abrasive in all his previous interactions.

Mysterion decided to give him an out, “It was stupid of you two to rush in like that, you could have gotten seriously hurt,” he admonished and he could _hear_ the intake of breath as Kyle prepared to argue back, “ _But_ it was also brave. Don’t make a habit of it, I don’t want to be cleaning your guts off the sidewalk, but you saved my ass. Thanks.”

He didn’t really want to encourage future heroics but it did have to be said. If nothing else, they’d saved his balls.

The most important part of him, in his humble opinion.

“...It’s a bit hard to take you seriously with underwear on your head.” Kyle said, like the asshole he clearly was.

Mysterion snorted and rolled his eyes, “Because your wannabe punk look is some much better.”

Kyle bristled, “It’s not punk. It’s--” he recoiled, passion ebbing away as he leaned against the door.

Huh… that wasn’t necessarily normal. “It’s what?”

Kyle looked at the ground, frowning petulantly, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I have dirty briefs on my head that are stained with blood and who knows what else. Try me.”

That got him a small laugh, “That doesn’t really speak towards your credentials of understanding.”

“Yeah, but it does say I lead a fucking crazeballs life. Which means I’m more likely to understand when shit’s weird.”

Another laugh, it was a nice sound. Mysterion made a mental note to maybe stop being so stand-offish to this kid in his alter ego. He wasn’t _all_ bad. Just, really awkward.

“It’s just…” Kyle sighed, “I’m not from around here, ya know? And it was a big adjustment to move here. No one talks like me, nothing works the way it does back home,” Ah, he was still calling the old place home, “And it felt like no matter how I changed myself, I couldn’t fit in. There’s always some new crazy trend, there’s the ridiculous coat my mom wants to put me in, even though she never cared about that stuff back in Jersey, and there’s just… it’s a lot of pressure to just fit in. Do what everyone else is doing, wear what everyone else is wearing.”

He stopped to frown at a memory, head thudding against the door as he glared at the ceiling, “And that’s not me. I can work on the way I talk and I can keep my opinion to myself and fuck, I’ll even lose the damn nickname, but this is just the only thing…” It didn’t sound like he was talking to Mysterion anymore, a rebellion against people that weren’t even present, “Maybe it doesn’t matter and maybe it’s just clothes and maybe I just look like a dumb punk, but it’s _me_ , it’s how I feel most comfortable, it’s _home_ in my wardrobe and I won’t _let_ them take that.”

The kid actually stood up mid-rant, volume growing as he paced two steps to the left and then back to his original position.

“And maybe I’ll have to change even this to get in the school my mom wants or to fit into whatever neat box--but _not now_ . I’m--I have a bit more time and I’m going to _use_ it. I--” he finally caught onto how expressive he’d been, eyes widening in embarrassment at Mysterion and slowly sitting back down, “I just don’t want to, okay?”

Mysterion nodded absently.

A lot of passion in one person, compressed into a tiny ball. It felt like a shame.

“So, you had a nickname?”

Kyle flushed, “It was dumb.”

Oh, now he _had_ to know.

Further questioning was cut off by a curt knock on the door. Kyle opened it and welcomed in Stan, who was carrying a damn comforter.

“Really, Stan.” Kyle said.

He shrugged, “It was the best I could do on short notice, okay?”

A blanket walking through town suspiciously with a mostly naked man under it. Wearing briefs on his head. In the middle of the day.

It couldn’t be helped. No force of this earth would have been able to stop it.

It was inevitable.

Kenny let out a long ugly laugh, every time he glanced at the blanket, losing his shit again with a new snort.

“M-Mysterion?”

He tried to collect himself, and _barely_ restrained him from the great many comments he could make on how horribly suspicious it was.

“Give me the blanket.” He sniggered again, “And don’t follow me.”

“I don’t see how this is that funny…” Kyle said as Mysterion wrapped himself in the blanket.

“It’s not.” It was, it totally was, oh my _god_ the flasher jokes he was keeping inside were more than enough to wreck him by themselves, “Don’t do anything dumb like this again. I’m watching you punks.”

To his _glee_ the blanket fluttered like a fucking cape on his way out of the bathroom.

Oh, this was his new favorite moment. He’d have to take a rather long and convoluted route home, and also ditch his underwear and the blanket somewhere, but this was the funniest shit he’d dealt with in a long time.

And with any luck, Chaos and his men had been arrested. Today was definitely taking a turn for the better.

Now he just had to deal with the drug cartel and the tentacle monsters…. Which meant he was going to have to make a long distance call.

\---

“...I think Mysterion may have gotten hit in the head. A few times.” Stan said, staring after the departing blanket. It still shook with giggles here and there.

Kyle couldn’t really argue. The laughter had caught him entirely by surprise as well and he still wasn’t sure how to handle it.

He looked back to the theater, still surrounded in cops. There were a few minions already under arrest.

“Do you think they caught Chaos?” he asked absently.

“...I don’t know.” Stan’s voice was a bit strained.

It was a bit much. It didn’t really matter if they did or not, Kyle knew his identity now and he could ambush him at home. The thought crawled around in his stomach like a sickness, Chaos needed to be caught but there was still something so pitiable about the boy Stan described.

Mysterion was right though.

Just because there was an excuse, maybe even a good one, it didn’t excuse behavior.

“Do you think Kenny would still be so into Mysterion if she knew he were underwear on his head?” Stan said jokingly, an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

Kyle’s eyes shot open, mouth forming a horrified _oh_.

Mysterion was Kevin according to what Karen said.

Kevin is Kenny’s brother.

Kenny has a thing for Mysterion.

“...Ew.” Kyle squeezed his eyes shut to digest the information. Shit, he was going to have to say _something_ . Chances were the Kenny didn’t _know_ and if she didn’t know then--well, it was definitely better that she was dissuaded from investing her emotions any further into the matter.

“What’s _‘ew’_?” Stan asked.

“Uh, nothing.” he felt a bit of guilt not telling Stan but it really wasn’t his secret to tell, “Let’s get out of here, I have to--”

His eyes shot wide open as his mouth also dropped open, horror etching into every part of his face.

“Stan,” he said breathlessly, pure terror fueling his voice into dread as the most terrifying aspect of the day made itself clear, “ _My mom_.”

She had to be home by now.

There was no way she hadn’t noticed that he was most definitely not at home grounded like he was supposed to be. Shit, he’d left his phone at home as well.

What was worse? Her calling the national guard because she thought he was kidnapped or her _knowing_ he snuck out. Did he loop the footage from the nanny cam? Oh _shit_.

Stan took a cautionary step away from him, making clear his allegiance of _not being in Sheila Broflovski’s way_ under any circumstances.

“Is she here?” Stan looked about briefly, some of the tension leaving his shoulder when a ferocious middle aged woman didn’t burst from the bushes and eviscerate him.

“She’s going to kill me.” Kyle said, eyes staring unseeingly ahead, “And then she’s going to kill everyone else involved. And then she’s going to raise me from the grave just so she can kill me again.”

“It won’t be that bad.” Stan was a terrible liar, “She’s probably just worried?”

“That’s _worse_ .” Kyle moaned, hiding his face in his hands, “You’ve _seen_ what she can do when she’s worried. It’s…”

“...Yeah.” Stan finished with a nod. “Dude, it’s only going to get worse the longer your gone. You should probably go home like, now.”

Stan was a terrible human being, Kyle was assigning David up to best friend status because Stan did not deserve the position.

Stan was also right.

Kyle sighed and nodded, waving dejectedly at his friend and beginning the walk home.

His mom was going to kill him.

His ribs were _already_ killing him. The vent had been a _nightmare_.

And Mysterion was ripped.

Kyle increased his pace with a flushed face, it was better to forget entirely about what he’d seen of Mysterion today. He was Kenny’s _brother_ for fucks sake.

He’d seen _a lot_ of Mysterion today though.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Despite the actual incarnation of his worst nightmare waiting at home, Kyle found himself making the trip in a brisk jog, hoping to run faster than the intrusive thoughts.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The weekend had been blissfully uneventful. Something Kenny needed desperately after the seemingly nonstop barrage of events that plagued his previous week.

Monday mornings were never ideal though, even in the face of strangely restful days of peace.

Among the things Kenny expected after everything that happened, one included seeing both the Broflovski children waiting primly in front of their home.

“Kevin!” Kyle waved, immediately rushing over, “How are you doing?”

Whatever it was that Kyle was up to, it involved giving Kevin a once over, and then twice over, looking for who-even-knows what. Kevin looked about as confused as Kenny felt,

“Good, I guess.” Kevin said hesitantly.

Kyle smiled  _ way _ too intently in response. Kenny had to do his own double-take. To his knowledge Kyle wasn't really the large unguarded smile sort.

…Of course it wasn't like Kenny had spent more than a passing moment with the other boy.

Kenny normally felt confident that he had assessed personalities correctly, somehow he was starting to really wonder about how he had assessed Kyle.

There was the rescue on Friday to consider as well. Much as Kenny wanted to superimpose the image of snobby rich arrogant Jersey asshole onto Kyle Broflovski, it seemed the comparison was doomed to fail.

And Kenny was infamously weak to people that warmed up to his family, even if it was a rather sudden shift.

“Kyle, bubbie!”

The voice belonged to a woman standing at the front door and, judging by the bright hair and pet name, probably Kyle’s mom.

“Yea, ma?” Kyle’s replied with a thick accent.

It actually took Kenny aback. It was familiar somehow. He’d always heard the hint of an accent from Kyle, but nothing like the drawl he spoke with now.

The woman crossed her arms over her rather impressive chest, wow, if Kyle was a chick he’d be hella well-endowed, “Remember what we talked about.”

Kyle nodded, shoulders drooping just a bit, “Yea, ma.”

She nodded once, firmly and decisively before closing the door.

Right, Stan had said that Kyle was suspended. What was the story with that?

Despite the building curiosity to actually engage the boy in a conversation, Kyle seemed perfectly content to chatter with Kevin as they walked. Ike didn’t seem to take nearly as much interest in Kenny this time either. Walking ahead and practically ditching the group.

“Your ma’s a bit intense, huh?” Kevin consoled.

Kyle nodded but he had a smile edging into his features already.

Wow.

Kyle  _ really _ liked Kevin all of a sudden. Too much, perhaps. Kenny frowned at the scene. A hand brushed the jagged edge of his messy haircut.

Was that all it took to dissuade the guy? Lose his feminine locks? What an asshole.

An elbow to his side distracted him from the scene, “Really?” Karen looked none too pleased herself.

“What?”

His little sister looked around before leaning in for a whisper, “I thought you  _ wanted _ him to stop fawning over you.”

“I did--do!” Kenny glared, “It’s not like that, I just don’t get why he’s so into Kevin now, okay?”

Karen shrugged, “McCormick fever? Maybe he’ll go after me next.”

“Oh, he had better not!” Tension built in his shoulders at the mere thought.

Karen snorted a laugh, “ _ Dude _ , chill. Hypothetically. Besides, he’d be barking up the wrong tree.”

“...Right.” Kenny said with a sigh, “It’s not that… okay, I’m not jealous, I’m just a bit confused, okay?”

“That’s fair. Just remember he doesn’t really owe you an answer, from what you’ve told me, you’ve rejected him  _ pretty _ extensively.”

Kenny actually flinched at the mention. He wasn’t particularly proud of his behavior in the previous week, or really any of his behavior regarding Broflovski. It was a series of embarrassing explosive emotions that had way more to do with Stan than Kyle.

“Yeah. I know. I should  _ probably _ apologize…” The idea didn’t really sit well with him, he  _ was _ sorry, but everytime he imagined apologizing he would remember the smarmy smirk as the arrogant kid leaned against a locker and all but called him dumb, “I just really don’t want to.”

Karen pat his back in a comforting gesture.

The walk was altogether uneventful other than Kyle’s intent to learn everything there is to know about Kevin McCormick, which seemed to flatter the oldest McCormick more than it confused him, so it went over well.

It was only when they were within spitting distance of education that the black limo came into view.

Parked just in front of a school was enough to garner attention, the Japanese embassy plates were what really caused Kenny to zero his focus onto it.

As if sensing he was nearby, an entirely too familiar man in a suit stepped out of the vehicle and looked towards the approaching group.

So they’d gotten his call.

Kenny didn’t look at anyone’s reaction. He was tired of looking for peoples reactions, or lack thereof, when it came to this particular aspect of his life. The only thing that really could be done at this stage was to enter the stupid limo and listen to whatever stupid he was fed.

He didn’t even acknowledge his old handler before tugging open a door and seating himself in the passenger compartment.

Yep.

He could have predicted this but he was face to face with Mr. Hirai. And his translator. Kenny chose to avoid letting them know how proficient he’d become in Japanese, gave him just enough of a tactical advantage.

“We heard the creatures have appeared in your city.” That was good ol’ Hirai-san, straight to the point, “They have not been seen in Tokyo for over a week. We believe they have changed their focus.”

Well. That’s just a whole fucking basket of fan-fucking-tastic. Kenny clenched his fist and nodded. It wasn’t like anything he said in this exchange would make any difference in how the situation was handled.

They had decided on a course of action, whether they would help or not, whether it would be help Kenny wanted or not, and none of Kenny’s words would make a whole lot of difference.

“We have not yet found a successor Princess.” The man held a box delicately in his lap. Kenny wished it wasn’t familiar. “Even though you are no longer technically of the appropriate age, the magic should still hold…”

“...But?”

There was always a catch.

“It won’t be like before. There are limitations. You’re too far from its source of power. You’re too old. The magic will  _ work _ but there will be limits that cannot be predicted in advance.”

Ah. So he’d be a guinea pig. Good to know his life hadn’t really changed up with time. Kenny nodded and held out his hands.

The box weighed like a lifetime of regret.

Inside was a commitment, an empowerment, and a curse.

He wouldn’t be able to put it into words whether he wanted to be the Princess again. It had been one of the best experiences of his life. Exhilarating beyond words and an expression of something  _ inside _ him that was delighted to get out.

It was also the embodiment of everything he had lost in exchange and the existential identity crisis that haunted his steps.

“Welcome back, Princess Kenny.”

Kenny wasn’t expecting to run into anyone when he left the vehicle, but there was Wendy Testaburger standing nearby with a thoughtful frown.

She brightened up considerably at the sight of Kenny and approached, sending the now departing limo a reproachful look.

“Walk with me?” She asked, looping arms with him without consent. Kenny just nodded. Childhood experience had taught him to listen to Testaburger when at all possible.

She could give anyone a run for their money in the unstoppable department. If Kenny had to guess how to make a Wendy, he would figure sugar, spice, everything nice, and then a whole fucking pound of pure grit.

“What’s up?” He hazarded when no explanation for their sudden walk was immediately offered up.

Wendy shrugged, “I saw you get into the creepsville car and I figured I should check to make sure you got out safely.”

There might have been omitted or altered information to that but Kenny couldn’t help but find himself touched by the sentiment.

It wasn’t often, or really ever, that someone showed such casual concern for him. He could only nod awkwardly in response, but it was more than enough for Wendy who was pulling him up to a gaggle of girls.

Some of whom he recognized and others who were among the new faces to South Park. Most of whom he’d never actually talked to one on one before.

Red, one of the few girls he recognized, gave him a once over before looking to Wendy blankly, “What’s this?”

Wendy rolled her eyes affectionately and tugged Kenny forward.

“Girls, meet Kenny. Kenny, meet the girls.”

Kenny waved shyly, apparently entering one of his childhood dreams come true and entirely unprepared to understand why or how.

One of the girls came forward with a friendly smile and introduced herself as Nichole before there was a hand touching his hair.

Scratch that. More than one.

And in a matter of minutes filled with giggles and introductions, Kenny found himself invited to hang out with the girls after school, three hairclips now in his hair with varying levels of sincerity as the girls gushed about how it suited him, and six more names in his cell.

And he was probably going to be late for class if he didn’t somehow find his away out of the giggling mass of cheer but he didn’t really have the heart to even attempt an escape. He looked up to Wendy and mouthed a quick thanks.

She grinned a perfectly arrogant self-satisfied Wendy-grin in response and Kenny was more than happy to have a companion like her at his side.

\---

It was still hard to believe but the more time passed, the more Kyle couldn’t help but find that it made perfect sense.

Kevin put his life in harms way to protect Karen, his little sister. He was training to be a firefighter so in all likeliness he has a strong sense of wanting to protect people  _ and _ it would explain his impressive stamina and strength. He was old enough that it would make sense that he considered Kite to just be a plucky kid.

The only real surprise was the gap between his character as Mysterion and his real world persona, but Kyle could more than understand that. After all, he was more expressive as Kite. Perhaps Kevin did the reverse.

_ And _ if he was right about Kenny, it meant they were some kind of family of superheroes! Which was cooler than he really had words for.

And Kenny  _ had _ to be the Princess, why else would she have waltzed up to a Japanese Embassy car?

It all just made  _ sense _ . It brought a certain level of satisfaction to him knowing that he’d solved the mystery all on his own. Sure, Karen’s blurted plea might have been the necessity to kickstart his brain and Ike had been more than assistance on the side of research but  _ the point was _ that Kyle had solved it.

What other explanation could possibly make any sense?

Kyle went through the entirety of the school day over the moon with the knowledge. It had made it impossible for Wendy to really grab his attention and David had given up altogether, letting him exist in la-la land for as long as he deemed it necessary. Kyle deemed it pretty freaking necessary. Stan, like a good pal, played interference for the rest.

Even as he was leaving the school, he had something of a skip to his step.

“Dude, you’re in way too good a mood.”

Kyle nudged his friend, “No such thing.”

Stan rolled his eyes, “Is this because of Friday?”

Kyle was ready to respond that it wasn’t but he supposed it sort of was, just not the aspects that Stan was likely thinking about.

“Sort of.”

Classes flew by in that concerning way where he retained absolutely none of the information.

It was a pretty great day until Kyle was about ready to leave the school and spotted the siblings walking home.

They had their normal close friendliness and nothing was out of the ordinary  _ except _ Kyle zeroed in on the one piece of information that had slipped his mind the entire day.

Kenny liked Mysterion.

Oh, god. She doesn’t  _ know _ , does she? Kyle jogged up to the pair, tapping her shoulder and  _ wow _ , it had been awhile since he’d been face to face with her.

How did she always just seem to glow with life? He could spend forever memorizing the patterns of freckles on her cheeks. And gosh, short hair really did suit her, the locks framed those cheeks perfectly.

“Yeah?”

Her voice didn’t hold nearly as much contempt as usual so he took it as a positive sign. Eyes darting nervously to Kevin’s confused face, he gestured towards the area a distance away, “Uh, can I talk to you? Privately?”

Confusion painted the faces but Kenny nodded slowly, shooting a smile towards her brother, “I’ll only be a moment.”

Kevin ruffled her hair in response and it sent another round of anxiety shooting through him. They weren’t actually a thing, were they? He knew that some middle state backwater hick towns were supposedly a bit more loose about the whole incest thing but  _ surely _ not, right?

Kenny followed him silently but Kyle dared not speak until he was sure that Kevin was out of hearing range, “You  _ cannot _ like Mysterion.”

“Excuse me?”

“You just can’t!” Kyle’s eyes shot towards Kevin anxiously, “It’s--just don’t, okay?”

“...I really don’t think that’s any of your business.” Her voice was closing off.

“I just--I know it’s a bad idea, okay? I can’t tell you why.” He couldn’t betray Kevin’s identity. The guy might be obnoxious in so many ways, but he  _ was _ a good partner and a good person, “Trust me.”

“Why should I trust you?”

That stung more than he cared to admit.

He had a reporte with Kenny as Kite. Something that still agitated him in the moments he didn’t have a mask. He didn’t want to think she was just an adrenaline junkie after heroes for their status but…

She always treated him like this. Like she couldn’t be bothered with him. Like she was beneath him.

_ Snobby _ , an internal voice that sounded obnoxiously like Stan supplied.

She wasn’t, he was so sure she wasn’t, but it was hard to believe himself when he could see the disdain in her eyes so clearly.

He clenched his fists.

“Just don’t tell me I didn’t warn you!” He snapped, brushing past in a huff and realizing too late that he would have to walk past Kevin as well to storm in the direction of his house. He stayed on course though, a bullheaded stubbornness fueled by years of  _ knowing _ he was right propelling him forward.

Kenny didn’t call after him.

Kevin raised a hand as he passed, “You okay, little dude?”

Kyle snapped at him as well, it wouldn’t be this complicated if this stupid jerk had just stayed out of tights to begin with! It was all so dumb.

“None of your business!”

Crap. He didn’t want to walk the entire way home with the siblings just behind him. This was an ill-conceived plan. Kyle bit his lip and changed course, heading the direction of the park. He could cut through it and go to the movie theater.

No sooner had he made it within eyesight of his target that he realized the folly of his plan.

It was closed, of course it was closed, the police were still working out evidence and there had been some structural damage.

He turned his gaze over to the Tweak coffee shop.

Not daring to look backwards or slow pace, in case the siblings were still somehow close enough to see him, he made a beeline for the coffee shop.

“Welcome, may I take your order?”

Kyle kind of always hated the sound of Mr. Tweak’s voice. It sounded perfectly modulated to elicit the docility of customers and it was entirely insincere.

He should have gone to David’s instead. It wasn’t  _ that _ far off. But then he’d have to face David, or maybe even Stan, and admit that  _ maybe _ , just maybe he’d been wrong about Kenny.

And that was still a fresh sting.

“Black coffee.” Kyle said absently before paying the man and waiting for his order. Tweek was nowhere in sight, perhaps the guy hadn’t left school yet. He sort of wanted to thank him for being, more or less, supportive in the tentacle incident last week.

He dropped his change in the tipjar as a way of balancing the scales of karma. What more could be done, really?

“Black coffee for a Kyle.” Kyle took the cup gratefully before taking a seat but he made no effort to drink it.

Coffee didn’t sound good. Nothing did.

He lifted his gaze across the cafe and locked on a figure lurking at a corner booth. Lurking would normally be too strong a word to refer to a person that appeared for all the world to be minding their own business and absorbed in their own work. It was the individual in question that really insisted on the use of such a word. It was hard to imagine him doing anything but.

What the fuck was Eric Cartman doing here?

Kyle felt personally offended, nay,  _ attacked _ that Cartman would dare to appear in his line of sight on a day like this. Especially not in the same establishment.

It took an exceptional amount of logical reasoning to remind himself that Cartman had clearly arrived first and, as stated above, was minding his own business.

His business was probably something awful though, Kyle would eat his own damn shoe if the fatass was calmly doing his homework.

Even if he  _ was _ doing his homework, he had probably fashioned a way to use the assignment to further his horrific bigoted agenda.

The shitty coffee looked somehow even  _ less _ appetizing at the sight of his hated schoolmate and Kyle let the waste of money it would eventually be sink in.

He’d have to wait a bit before tossing the cup though, it would look rude and the last thing he wanted was Mr.Tweak asking him about it.

It was definitely one of those anxiety-rising small locations where the owners actually paid  _ attention _ to their patrons, meaning your every move was scrutinized in some way.

Kyle chose to spend his time looking for other familiar patrons but found none. For such a small town, it was surprising that Kyle had yet to meet everyone. But his life experiences were also small, limited to school and home, and now with the addition of superhero activity.

The patrons did mostly all share some disturbing similarities though.

Kyle had only taken partial notice of it at first, one blond woman twitching too many times while digging into a scab, pupils dilated in a state that  _ surely _ meant she had had more than too much coffee, and her body almost as shaky as Tweek’s.

In fact, it felt like looking at an older female version of Tweek, if he was entirely honest.

The issue was that now that he noticed it in the woman, he couldn't help but notice it everywhere. Surely not  _ every _ customer had consumed enough coffee to look this strange… there was some variety to the symptoms, some only showing faint signs and some worse than the woman.

He pushed his own coffee further away from him, lips curling in disgust.

The only one who appeared completely unaffected was the lone and suspicious lurker in the corner. Kyle could barely spot a flash of blond that told him Cartman wasn’t seated alone.

Kyle went from positive that Cartman was up to no good to relatively sure he had an idea as to what it was.

An experiment maybe? Human experimentation didn’t seem out of his sick twisted little brain. Perhaps he spiked the coffee with something awful while the Tweak’s weren’t looking.

It didn’t make sense that Cartman hadn’t bothered to harass him yet either. He  _ had _ to have noticed, Kyle was in his line of sight and had been since the moment he entered. And Cartman was definitely taking note of people who entered.

Eric Cartman didn’t ever just sit peacefully without causing a disturbance for Kyle _ unless _ he had something far more devious planned.  _ Tough luck, fattass. _ Kyle was onto him.

He was going to make it known, too.

Kyle stood, ready to confront Cartman right there over his wrong-doing. If no one else in this shitty pissant town had the guts to stand up to him--

The sound of his own ringtone distracted him and attracted a few nervous stares. He shrunk back from the collective mob of Tweek’s who were staring at him and took the call.

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t I tell you that you are to come  _ straight home _ . I said  _ straight home _ .”

Kyle flinched at the rage fueled interrogation, responding meekly to his mother and ducking out of the shop, careful not to forget his coffee.

Hell if he was going to drink the horrible stuff but he now needed to figure out what sort of poison Cartman had infected people with. Somehow. Did he know anyone who was good at chemistry? His mind drifted away from the anger in his ear and to the despondent knowledge that he was going to have spend most of the night researching how to do what most people got a degree in university to do.

The only good news was he could probably convince his mom it was a school project.

\---

Kenny was used to being the loudest house in the neighborhood.

But apparently  _ lungs _ were a thing in the Broflovski household. He stared owlishly at the house over the train track. He’d just been lounging outside in some desperate attempt for any form of privacy, the irony didn’t escape him, when the sound took hold of the neighborhood.

Perhaps it wasn’t quite loud enough to carry towards him if he happened to be inside, but sitting outside he could hear it as clear as day.

Kyle was in trouble. Something about being home late. Something about being suspended.

Huh. Punching Cartman. Not a crime that Kenny could actually begrudge anyone, come down to it. It actually improved his opinion of Broflovski, even if just by a little.

It did beg the question what had become of Stan’s friendship with Cartman. Or Butters for that matter. It was strange. Sure people tended to grow apart with age, but he hadn’t seen any of his old friends so much as greet one another. Well, he hadn’t seen Butters at all. He was starting to think the Stotch’s just moved away.

The echo of Mrs. Broflovski’s voice continued for some time and Kenny felt just the slightest guilt build.

He was willing to admit, at least to himself, that he may have been a bit hasty in judging Kyle as being a complete tool. And  _ perhaps _ he had over-reacted.

Okay, he had definitely over-reacted.

It was one of those cringe wheels of events that made him not want to see or talk to anyone, just let out a stream of embarrassed expletives as he reflected on it all.

He hadn’t really said or done anything awful to Kyle today. He’d just answered his questions.

Okay, he’d been a  _ bit _ short about it, but how the fuck was anyone supposed to respond to random ass demands like that?

He swung his legs over the edge of the tire stack.

Kyle was probably late home because he was avoiding walking home at the same time.

Nothing about the boy really made any sense to Kenny. He seemed truly arrogant and shitty sometimes, had a fiery temper apparently, and was willing to sacrifice his pants in a pinch.

Perhaps he wasn’t the most mysterious person ever, but Kenny didn’t know what to make of him.

He wasn’t really sure he’d ever spent the time to ever really give the kid a once over, come to think of it.

It was a compulsion born of sympathy and guilt, but after about five minutes of listening to Mrs. Broflovski’s voice reach some truly terrifying pitches, Kenny went inside to change.

It was still a bit bright in the day for this getup and he was still making repairs, but he sort of owed Kyle a thank you for the rescue.

And the kid could probably use  _ something _ positive after what was now ten minutes straight of lecture. Kenny winced, for all his parents faults, he sort of enjoyed that they didn’t seem to care when he got home or where he went.

It certainly served his purposes well enough.

He waited until the sound of Mrs. Broflovski’s voice finally died down before he scaled the wall that led to one of the upper bedrooms. He was  _ almost _ spotted by the younger brother but he moved out of sight in time and the kid was more than pleased to continue watching youtube videos.

Right.

Keep going. Luckily there was only one other bedroom window he could reach, and the distressed redhead told him it was the right one.

This was going to be awkward. Kenny shook away those nerves and reminded himself that he was  _ Mysterion _ right now.

He watched as Kyle nearly jumped right out of his own skin at the sound of his knocking, his alarm only doubled when he spotted Mysterion.

Whatever alarmed sound he might have been intending was stifled as he looked towards his door with something like fear, before he rushed over to the window and unlatched it.

Mysterion gracefully swept into the room. There were, luckily, plenty of handholds on the wall but it was still unpleasant on the fingers to spend an extended period of time suspended like that.

“What are you doing here?” Kyle hissed, still darting his eyes towards the door like the woman could come barreling any moment to investigate.

“I wanted to thank you.” Mysterion didn’t bother to ask permission and menaced over to the bed where he took a seat. “For the other day. What you and Marsh did was very brave. Incredibly dumb, but brave.”

Kyle swallowed visibly, shifting uneasily with something rosy beginning to rise to his cheeks, “You already said thanks.”

Mysterion shrugged, “In a grungy public bathroom with briefs on my head. You deserve a thank you that doesn’t smell like raw sewage.”

“Oh.” Kyle’s face was a complicated mindfield of emotion, it didn’t look like he  _ could _ find words, but he settled on, “Did you bring back my pants, then?”

“I’m keeping the pants.” Mysterion decided it right then. Truthfully, he’d just entirely forgotten about it but he liked them. They might not fit properly but they were something special, somehow.

He could count on one hand the number of times someone had rescued him, even cared to  _ try _ and he wanted a trophy for the momentous event.

Kyle chuckled just a little, some color returning to his cheeks.

“In all seriousness though,” Mysterion allowed some of his actual emotion show through, “Thank you.”

“It--it was really Stan’s idea and all we did was crawl through a vent.”

“Right.” Mysterion said dryly.

Kyle’s shoulders sagged, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. He definitely appreciated being appreciated. Good. Mysterion didn’t like failed missions.

“We didn’t really do much.” Kyle shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, “It was mostly dumb luck that we were able to do anything at all.”

_ Dumb luck that saved my dick _ , Mysterion had to actually bite back the remark, instead just nodding in a noncommental way.

Kyle shifted uneasily towards a desk chair, moving a coffee cup carefully farther from the edge of the desk.

Mysterion had the distinct feeling that he’d overstayed his welcome but he didn’t quite have the heart to leave yet. About the only thing he  _ did _ know about Kyle Broflovski was the kid had spunk, and the slump to his shoulders was definitely lacking in that category.

He could, probably should, leave and maybe even visit Stan as well, just to keep things even. Patrol the night and prepare for school in the morning.

But he still had the gnawing feeling that he was in some way responsible for the boy’s mood.

“Are you alright?” He decided this sounded a bit too soft for Mysterion, “Last I checked, you were a bit more chatty.”

Kyle shrugged, eyes darting to the door and then back to his very uninvited guest, “Long day. Lost my temper and did something dumb.”

The was something actually awful in the way his shoulders sagged further and his voice curled in on itself. Mysterion made another decision then and there. Kenny was going to try being nicer to this damn kid, even if he did err on the side of rude.

But, for now, Mysterion could be a listening ear.

“What happened?”

Kyle grumbled unhappily but his voice rose again, looking directly at Mysterion, a conflict in his eyes, “I need you to tell Kenny who you are.”

What the hell…

That was not on the list of things Mysterion expected.

“...Why?”

Kyle frowned, some of his usual petulance showing up, “Look, you have to, she--I mean, I--look, I know who you are. And I know some, uh, other stuff. So you need to tell Kenny, okay?”

It was all Mysterion could do not to laugh so loudly it attracted the attention of the entire neighborhood. Actual tears of mirth threatened the corner of his eyes.

“No. You don’t.” Mysterion managed, the need to laugh was  _ intense _ .

Kyle’s temper flared, “Yes, I do!  _ Kevin _ .”

Mysterion blinked. Once, twice, and then raised an eyebrow higher than he thought he really could, “You think I’m Stolely?”

“No!” Kyle’s whispers were dangerously close to yells, “My neighbors! You’re Kenny’s brother!”

Well, that at least explained the sudden intense interest in the older McCormick. And his insistence on the crush thing. Oh dear lord, Mysterion prayed to be spared from the laughter and how utterly  _ endearing _ the stupid was.

He actually snorted, it couldn’t be stopped, it couldn’t be helped, “Do I  _ look _ like Kevin McCormick?”

Kyle’s passion paused and it was his turn to look entirely nonplussed, “Yea--” his brain seemed to catch up, actually cataloguing the appearance in front of him.

Mysterion decided to give him a hand, “Not for nothing, kid. But McCormick has a full foot on me. Sorry to say, but you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Kyle slumped in his chair, hiding his maroon face between his hands, “I was so sure--” he groaned. Embarrassment  _ radiated _ from him.

This was a bit off plan, Mysterion held in the smile and spoke, “It’d be more of a problem if you did know, don’t worry about it, kid.”

Kyle sighed and raked a hand through his hair, face still only a shade lighter than his hair, “Urgh…I just made a fool of myself for no reason.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

Kyle cracked an eye at him, “Not you--I--...” he frowned, “I kind of snapped at someone.”

Best to play dumb, “Kevin or Kenny?” But not too dumb.

Kyle groaned, “ _ Both _ . I was just--I was  _ really _ sure! And Kenny said she--” He looked up in alarm at Mysterion and did the mental math of  _ not _ spilling a major crush. That was almost sweet, Mysterion gave him a point for it, “I lost my temper with her over literally nothing.”

“I’m sure she won’t hold it against you.” If anything it was going to be a source of ‘her’ mirth for a good time to come.

Kyle shook his head, “You don’t know her--she  _ hates _ me. I don’t even know what I  _ did _ , it seems like no matter what I say or do, it only makes it worse.”

Ah. There was that guilt again. Mysterion shifted uneasily with the knowledge, “Who can really tell what goes on in a girl’s head?” It was such a throwaway line and it received the derision it probably deserved from Kyle’s side-eye.

“It’s not that she’s a girl. She’s just--I can’t  _ read _ her!” He threw up his hands in despair. “I have female friends who I can read just fine, but it feels like anytime I’m talking to her it’s another layer of another mask and I just--I wanna get to know her.” He frowned to himself, “I know it sounds like I'm just attracted to the mystery or whatever but she’s more than that, she’s brave and unstoppable. I’ve seen her be kind and thoughtful to other people--don’t give me that look, I’m not a stalker, we go to the same school, okay?!--it’s just me that she hates.”

Kyle looked away and Mysterion let him continue, that seemed to be the best tactic when it came to Kyle’s emotions. Let him express it freely.

“I don’t know what to do or what to say anymore, and she didn’t seem as upset with me today and then  _ I _ lose my temper at  _ her _ and it’s shitty! It sucks! I don’t want to have a crap temper like this and I don’t want to…” He folded up on himself, breathing heavily, “I’m tired of fucking up.”

Goddamnit.

He couldn’t help but recall the last conversation he’d had with Kyle as Mysterion. His own words echoing in his mind about  _ excuses _ and  _ bad tempers _ . He was equally guilty of being a rude asshole.

Mysterion searched for anything he could say that would be revealing  _ way _ too much information. Regret and guilt edged their nasty path through his stomach and led the way for unease.

“That sucks.” He said, at a loss for anything else.

Kyle sighed heavily and leaned back in the chair, “Sorry--I keep sharing way too much with you.” His voice edged with an uneasy tension, “I bet you’re tired of hearing my bullshit.”

Definitely the opposite, Mysterion felt the more he heard, the more he wanted to hear.

There was something just interesting about the way Kyle spoke, wrapped his feelings around matters, the way he seemed to care so much but strived not to care at all. He was interesting.

Mysterion, ever the master of emotions, shrugged, “I don’t mind.”

“I must seem like such a dumb kid. Always bitching about something or another.” It wasn’t entirely untrue but Mysterion decided against agreeing.

He tended to view everyone with the same condescension, if he was honest. The problems the average teen cared about paled in comparison to issues like giant tentacle monsters.

He’d gotten used to it.

“It’s cool, kid. You  _ are _ a kid. You should care about that shit and get emotional. It’d be more of a problem if you had your head stuck so far up your ass that you stopped viewing yourself as one. You’re going through a rough time and you’re doing your best, what more could be asked for?”

The wry smile he received was half parts skepticism and half parts pleased. Mysterion could live with that.

“Thanks…” Kyle said and there was an emotion in his voice that really  _ meant _ it.

Damn. He did really regret not befriending Kyle sooner, the kid was definitely cute.

Curiosity gnawed in his stomach though, aching to be released.

“What exactly has you so intent on this Kenny kid anyway?”

“If I could explain it, my friends would probably make fun of me less.” Kyle toyed with the lid of the coffee cup, “She just sort of sticks out to me? And she’s pretty freaking cool. During the school shut down she--I mean, I heard she helped the Kite to stop Chaos and his shitty minions. No one else could do anything and she took charge to help people. That’s pretty fucking amazing in my opinion.”

Damn, this was getting a bit embarrassing. Mysterion really hoped his cheeks weren’t actually accumulating warmth. Why exactly had he pried?

Why was he going to continue to pry?

“Sounds like quite a girl.” Mysterion nodded sagely, “Still, more like hero worship than anything else. Have you actually had a conversation with her? What if you don’t like her after getting to know her.”

“Then I’ll know.” Kyle nodded and there was something about the curve of his face and the determination in his jaw that was just  _ really _ interesting to look at, “I would rather  _ know _ for sure what sort of person she is than spend my time speculating.”

Damn. His heart skipped a beat.

It wasn’t often people showed an interest in getting to know him. Especially not such an intent one.

It was so honest and straightforward, it fit Kyle. He was awkward, straightforward, and spirited.

A good combination if Mysterion was any judge.

“ _ Kyle, bubbie _ .”

The voice was coming from the first floor but the panic in Kyle’s face said it may as well be in the same room.

“You need to go--” he hissed, body rigid.

Mysterion nodded, concern etching its way inside of him but climbed out the window obediently at the same time that Kyle called back, “Yea, ma?”

\---

Kyle had barely slept a wink. Between dealing with his mom, reflecting on the  _ extremely _ embarrassing conversations of the previous day, and researching how to chemistry poison tests, he wasn’t sure the little he had slept even counted. Should he have mentioned his suspicions about the coffee to Mysterion? Should he have pushed for information that could have helped reveal his identity?

It had been the fitful sort of anxious rest that usually only haunted him around test season.

He was out of bed as early as possible though. He wasn’t intending to walk with the McCormick’s today and that meant leaving as dawn barely cracked over the horizon to avoid that scenario.

He also needed to talk to Stan urgently. Ike shot him a tired look from the breakfast table but he didn’t even bother with a greeting before he shot out the front door.

[ _ To: Stan _

_ Meet me at the school, asap!! _ ]

Stan, the heathen, decided against texting back and he was receiving a call only moments later.

It could be worse. At least it was someone to talk to while he walked.

“Yeah?”

_ “Dude, why are you texting me to meet you at the school? Is there an emergency?” _

Stan said.

“No, just--” Kyle weighed his options, this didn’t really need to be done in person, “I need to know something. Something only someone like you who’s actually from around here would know.”

_ “Oh. That’s less dramatic. Go nuts, dude.” _

“Do you know the McCormick family?”

_ “Yeah?” _

“Is there a fourth sibling in the McCormick family?”

_ “...Why are you asking about the McCormick’s? That’s a bit out of left field. But no, not to my knowledge. It’s just Kevin, Kenny, and Karen.” _

“You’re  _ sure _ there’s only one boy?”

Stan snorted,  _ “Two boys, dude. Kenny and Kevin, duh. Why are you asking about them though, Kenny is still in China or wherever...” _

Stan’s voice trailed off, apparently his brain was doing some serious shoots and ladders, but Kyle’s was too, trying to catch up.

“Uh, no. Kenny goes to school with us. I talk about her almost everyday? As you like to remind me  _ constantly _ .”

There was a pregnant pause on the other side of the phone.

_ “Oh.” _ Stan’s voice sounded distant, a prelude to the burst of emotion to come,  _ “Oh,  _ **_shit_ ** _! Kenny  _ **_McCormick_ ** _?!” _

More pieces of information caught up with racing minds, Kyle was the first to speak, “What do you mean Kenny’s a--”

_ “Fuck--no wonder--and Wendy said--but oh shit. Uh, dude, I’ve got to go. Do shit. Check shit? I’m a bit busy, I’ll catch up later, okay?” _

And like the rude asshole his best friend was, Stan fucking hung up on him.

_ Dick _ . He frowned, frozen in place as he worked over the conversation and allowed his brain to put together the information.

Karen said her older brother.

She didn’t say  _ which _ older brother.

And if Kenny was--was she? He? They? Fuck, this was going into a pronoun situation quickly that he wasn’t at all equipped with the information to deal with.

His heart thudded in terror at the potentiality of the knowledge.  _ If _ Kenny was in fact a boy, or at least born a boy, and  _ if _ in fact he, she, they, ze, or it had been who Karen had been referring to--

His mind flickered to the stoic form who had sat on his bed just the night before. No. No, that would be too cruel. No.

Okay. He needed to calm down. He really needed to calm down and figure this out.

Panic had other plans and he continued his walk to school entirely fueled by the anxiety that ate away at his stomach, feet propelled forth by the force of an internal strife.

There had to be a mistake. This couldn’t be accurate. It didn’t make sense.

If  _ Kenny _ was  _ Mysterion _ that meant  _ Kenny _ was the one who sat on his bed last night and consoled him over his crush. That meant it was  _ Mysterion _ who helped him battle through an army of goop toting minions and kissed his hand. It was  _ Kenny _ who was stark naked in the movie theater--

Kyle’s brain fried with the implications of the potentiality, not even pausing to glance at the sight of Cartman standing--lurking--nearby.

“Good morning,  _ Kahl _ .”

The voice was enough of a distraction to drag him from his thoughts, he frowned meaningfully at Cartman. The vials of coffee in his backpack somehow weighed a bit more at the sight of him.

“Cartman.” He responded. It was best to avoid him. No point jumping to the bait and getting himself expelled over a garbage human like Cartman.

Cartman wasn’t alone though.

Kyle took in the tall nervous blond standing nearby. He was smiling but it didn’t meet his eyes.

His eye. One visible eye. Only one. His brain did a screeching halt at the information.

There was a heavy bandage over the other one.

Neurons of information fired desperately to feed him the information he needed to react appropriately to the situation but they all fell crashing to the ground when he breathed in.

In one smooth movement, someone had snaked an arm around and placed a cloth over his mouth.

Shit.  _ Fuck _ .

“I saw you take the coffee yesterday,  _ Kahl _ .” Cartman’s voice sounded distant as his sight spotted away, “I know you, filthy jew. You’re planning something. And I’m not going to let that hap--.”

At least the release of unconsciousness allowed him to stop hearing the asshole’s voice.

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

It was more than a little disappointing when only the younger Broflovski turned up for the walk to school. Sure, it would be suspicious if he  _ immediately _ changed his behavior after meeting him as Mysterion but Kenny still wanted to start laying the groundwork for a friendship. At the very least he wanted to say  _ hi _ .

He could make sense of it though. Kyle had seemed completely mortified. Only made sense that the McCormick's weren't his ideal people to see at the moment.

“You're pouting.”

Kenny frowned, “Am not.”

Karen gave a smile that was eerily similar to his own mischievous smirk. It felt as though a karmic deity had interceded in the proceedings in order to remind him of his own crimes as a younger sibling.

Oh, the afternoons he’d spent taunting Kevin over the short-lived crush on Shelly Marsh. What a gleeful peace it had been, the power to rub something so silly in his older sibling’s face. What beautiful rose-colored days.

And now Karen was giving him  _ those _ eyes and he knew with finality that all things must come at a price.

“Ya know,” she began, shooting a look to Kevin’s conversation with Ike up ahead. Something to do with the pros and cons of  _ Youtube  _ being a real profession. “It’s okay to like  _ two _ boys at the same time. So long as you stick to one at the end of the day.”

Kenny decided the safest route down this path of thorns would be to school his features and play as dumb as possible. He was blond, that was supposed to come naturally or something, right?

“That’s good to know, I guess?” He was pretty proud of the little lilt of bewilderment he’d added to his voice. Sold the part well.

Apparently Karen didn’t really care about the concept of playing coy, “You totally have a thing for Kyle.”

Kenny shot a panicked look towards Ike and felt some relief over how heated the debate had become. Ike couldn’t have heard, right?

“I do not.” he hissed, “I just realized I might have been a bit excessively hard on him and I figured I should try making amends.”

“Uh-huh.” Wow, that was a good zero-percent convinced voice. Kenny just didn’t appreciate it being used on him.

“Why do you even think--” he glanced at Ike again, checking his attention, “ _ \--that _ anyway?”

“You’re doing that thing people do when they have a crush.”

“What thing?” Kenny crossed his arms morosely. “I’m not doing anything.”

“The one where you constantly look for him.”

Kenny’s eyes did the wide arch of disbelief, “ _ Looking _ for a person doesn’t equate to romantic feelings. I look for  _ plenty  _ of people.”

“Looking for people while fiddling with your hair, adjusting your clothes, and pep-talking yourself?”

“I have  _ not _ been doing  _ any _ \--oh my god, have I been doing those things?”

Karen gave his back a firm and comforting pat, a parting gift as she began to break off towards her school’s entrance, “It’s okay, now that you know you can cover up. Your emotions are obscene, Kenneth, think of the  _ children _ .”

“I’m going to give you a huge noogie when you get home and it’s going to be awful.” Kenny promised, about as intimidating as he could ever sound towards his baby sister.

She rolled her eyes fondly and stuck out her tongue before jogging away.

“Karen giving you trouble?” Kevin asked while giving a half hearted noogie. Huh, that’s where Kenny must have gotten it from.

Ike was long gone so Kenny relaxed into pace with his brother, “She thinks I have a  _ thing _ for Broflovski.  _ Ridiculous _ !”

Kevin blinked, clearly taken aback, “Oh.”

“What?” Kevin shuffled, Kenny pressed, “ _ What _ ?”

Kevin scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “Well, I just thought you guys were already dating and just didn’t want to tell anyone yet.”

“What.”

Kevin shrugged helplessly and Kenny couldn’t  _ really _ stay mad at his older brother but he could fucking  _ try _ . “Well, he’s pretty obviously into you and you are either giving him special attention or trying to look like you aren’t. You also pretty much formally introduced me to him. You’re hella dodgy about him too and more or less constantly complaining about him to Karen. And,” he smiled apologetically, “You have to admit he’s your type.”

“How is he my type?!” Kenny wracked his brain for a crush similar to Jersey boy and drew a blank.

“I mean that superhero dude that you keep saving pictures of from the internet--”

Kenny aimed a painless kick at his brothers shin. That was his one threat, “I told you not to mention that!”

“It’s kind of gold, Ken, you can’t blame me.”

“I can and I will. Besides, Kite is  _ nothing _ like Kyle.”

“Redhead, spicy personality, in shape?”

Kenny rolled his eyes, “That’s not eve--”  

Kenny himself wouldn’t be able to tell anyone how he was going to finish that sentence because it was in that precise moment that Stan Marsh practically barrelled into him, completely out of breath.

Stan’s hand gripped his upper arms and he had a face full of panting Stan who hadn’t quite managed to catch his breath. This was why Stan had squeaked rather than actually managed anything substantial.

“Breathe, Marsh.” Kevin said, a touch reproachfully.

Stan did and Kenny tried to restart his brain to take in the entirety of the situation. Stan was finally breathing at something of a normal rate when he cried out, “Kenny!”

Ew. Spittle. Damnit, Stan.

“Yeah?”

What could possible have Stan so completely out of sorts?

“Kenny McCormick!” he said, with meaning this time, and something of a question tacked on the end.

“Uh, again, yeah?”

Oh.

Kenny needed to completely restart his brain because now he was wrapped in a giant Stan hug and this was not how he was prepared for his morning to go. What the actual fudge was going on?

“ _ Dude _ ,” Stan sounded a little pissed but mostly happy, “You should have fucking  _ told _ me. What the  _ shit _ .”

_ Oh _ .

Kenny suddenly felt completely uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable. Stan  _ knew _ . Holyshit.

He’d wanted this. Exactly this. And now that it was in his arms he had no idea what to do with it. It was awkward, owning up to his own peevish behavior of the last several weeks. Stan  _ knowing _ that it was dirty old Kenny McCormick hiding behind all the cute skirts.

He didn’t know how to handle this at all, he looked to his brother for help and found the asshole was taking a picture of the moment with his phone.

“ _ Really _ ?”

Kevin gave him a thumbs up and then mock wiped a tear from his eye, “My baby boy’s growing up.”

This really was the morning where karma reigned supreme.

Stan finally released him, but only barely enough to make eye contact, “ _ Dude _ , you were gone for ages and you didn’t even say anything when you got back! Cold much?”

Kenny shifted uneasily, memories of how shy he had once felt without all the personas wrapping around him suffocatingly, “I--I figured you’d recognized me.”

Stan snorted, “ _ Dude _ , you’re in a skirt.”

Kenny’s temper rose, “And? What about my face? My name?”

“I mean,” it was Stan’s turn to look uncomfortable, “I thought you were a boy, though.”

“I  _ am _ a boy.”

“Okay, but you look like a girl.”

“What does  _ that _ have to do with identity?” He was going to sic Wendy at this boy, so help him.

“Uh… appearance?” Stan offered sheepishly, “Look, you know I’m not good with that shit. I just kinda figured you weren’t and you didn’t exactly make it easy.”

“...I still think you should have recognized my face.” He sniffed indignantly, “It’s my best feature.”

That got him a  _ Stan-laugh _ which honestly eased a great deal of the tension bubbling beneath the surface. He’d really missed Stan’s laugh.

He also hated that he did.

“Okay, but dude in my defense, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of that damn parka. Like, ever.”

That couldn’t be true. Kenny frowned. He hadn’t worn it  _ all _ the time. Just from winter through fall and obviously anytime he felt anxious and at school and when he didn’t have any other clothes, which was pretty often and… hmm…

_ Maybe  _ he did wear the the damn thing almost all the time, but that still didn’t excuse Stan from being such a  _ dumbass _ .

“Point made,” he said begrudgingly. He wasn’t going to let this go easily but he could accept that it  _ might _ have been possible that the few times Stan  _ had _ seen him out of his signature parka were much less memorable than the majority of moments in their friendship when the parka was present.

It still made him supremely unhappy that Stan was friends with an article of clothing instead of him. Asshole.

“Aw, man, Kyle is going to  _ flip _ when I tell him.” Stan said, excitement lacing every word.

Kenny stiffened distinctly, “You can’t tell him!”

If Kyle figured out he was a boy the chances of him learning Mysterion’s identity went up  _ significantly _ . Considering his little stunt from the night before, it wasn’t something he fancied.

Why was this all happening at once? Why did Stan have such shit timing?

“Okay…” Stan said, a knit between his brow and a question in his eyes. Kenny frowned at it. Damnit, Marsh. Worst fucking timing  _ ever _ to magically grow a brain.

“Hey, kids?” They both looked up to Kevin miming at an imaginary watch, “You guys might want to do your little reunion thing at school. You’re gonna be late.”

“Oh shit!” Stan said and without any preamble grabbed Kenny's hand and began to rush towards the school dragging the boy behind him.

Without a thought he was pulled into the wind of movement.

It was so completely familiar and nostalgic that Kenny nearly lost his footing. If it wasn't Stan, it was Cartman or Butters, dragging him off with no explanation to adventures that often led to his death.

But they were adventures with his friends.

His heart hummed harmoniously as the rush of familiarity threw him for a loop.

The ease it might be to just fall back into step with him. His friend.

Did Stan count as a friend anymore? They had both changed and trying to name the last time they'd been behaving like friends required going back several years.

Still he found himself keeping pace and reveling in the emotion of being tagged along. He hated how much he missed this.

The resentment tangled with the nostalgia, creating a complicated braid of emotions.

How much he felt the tension inside him drift away because one goddamn thing in his life was as it should be.

This nostalgic tidal wave of emotion was somewhat mollified by the reception he received when went to class. His first period English teacher was something of a hardass so he'd been sent to the office over being a measly three minutes late.

He didn't spot Stan there so he assumed his first period teacher must have been more lenient.

Lucky bastard.

Craig Tucker was seated outside the office though and Kenny found some solace in that. He'd always gotten along with Craig.

“Hey.” He greeted nonchalantly while taking the empty chair next to Craig, awaiting their doom.

Craig flipped him off in response.

Ah, Craig's consistency could be counted on for all things in life.

They lapsed into a companionable silence after that but it had the unfortunate side effect of allowing Kenny to mull things over.

Most prominently, how to present himself.

Craig had never really been a close friend, per se, his ongoing rivalry with Stan made that somewhat difficult. But they’d been school chums paired for a few projects and they parted on friendly terms.

Stan’s words stuck with him.

Was he being the asshole by not just telling people who he was? Should he just turn to Craig and say ‘oh hey, just so you know, I’m Kenny McCormick, the poor asshole that ditched town to study abroad’?

What if Craig already knew and was just being Craig and thereby not giving two fucks? It would be embarrassing to introduce himself to someone who had already worked it out for themselves.

And did he even want his gender and identity widespread knowledge? He did enjoy being a girl at school, although he did wish he could also arrive as a boy from time to time. And what of all of the stigma that came with being  _ Kenny McCormick _ .

The last he’d heard of Kenny McCormick, from the eyes of the general public, it was an ongoing rumor that he was whoring himself out while getting high on substances he couldn’t afford to purchase even if he  _ wanted _ to go down the same dead-end lane of his parents.

He was at least ninety percent certain that particular rumor had been started by Eric Cartman, but the fact that it spread still remained indisputable.

People didn’t think anything of  _ Kenny from Japan _ . The worst thing he’d heard anyone say about him was something lewd he half approved of.

A draft hit Kenny and he shivered, curiously peering for where it could have come from. It felt rather strong and yet…he wasn’t sure he’d felt any wind.

“What are you in for?” Craig asked, out of the blue.

“Late. You?”

Craig shrugged as though that was an answer. Kenny wondered if he should have lied and said something cooler. Craig was all about raging against the system, in his own way, he'd missed a perfect opportunity to impress his old pal.

The silence resumed from there, only broken by Craig being summoned into the office by a tired looking clerk.

Kenny had to wonder at how bizarre this system was. He was three minutes late to class, meaning he’d probably missed morning greetings and maybe a call for homework. But now, sitting in this hallway, he was missing upwards of ten minutes of class time.

What a strange way to run a school…punishing students by depriving them of an education. It seemed pretty backwards in his mind. Wasn’t the whole purpose of the system to enable learning?

Kenny’s contemplations didn’t last much longer. Another chill washed over him but this one was too familiar to ignore.

The warping sound of a vortex followed by the slimey  _ slap _ against the ground. A distinct  _ slurping _ noise of menace.

It was a mixture of instinct and fear causing him to throw himself from the chair just in time to dodge what would have  _ surely _ been a deadly blow.

_ “Found you.” _

“Okay, seriously, you guys need a new line.” Kenny complained, backing away from the monster, “It’s just gettin’ hella repetitive at this point.”

The creature hissed and Kenny dodged around a corner reaching into his pocket for the broach. It wasn’t there.

“ _ Fuck _ .” He said with feeling and barely avoiding being impaled on a tentacle of the--what was this? A cross between a angler fish, an octopus and a squid? It was gross. It was seriously gross.

Kenny was swearing off seafood.

The gleam of pink and gold could barely be seen over the creatures shoulder and regret, the faithful companion it was, chided him on not placing it somewhere more secure on his person.

Not that regret had the time to really dig into him, he had to avoid some pretty violent penetration from a giant monster. He couldn’t take his eyes away for a second. One tentacle sent him flying to the side, but only a moment later he had to roll away from the crushing weight of one that  _ dented _ the ground.

So frustrating. Kenny grit his teeth and allowed one of the smaller ones to smack him his back in exchange for jumping over one that would have broken his legs.

This couldn’t continue.

The door to the office opened and three faces peered out but Kenny didn’t have the time to tell who.

Great. Lookie-loos. They  _ did _ realize that as soon as he inevitably lost to the sheer mass of this thing, they were next, right?

Why couldn’t tentacle monsters be sexy like they were in anime? Kenny could deal with that.

Another swipe knocked open a locker and he could hear curious voices behind him. Shit. People were getting out of their classrooms. Did this school have  _ no _ sense of self preservation?

Truthfully that was what could be said about South Park in general. The crowds never really seemed to shy away from a good show until it was too late to run.

It was only a matter of time before they started cheering or jeering, whichever suited their fancies more.

_ “Found you, found you, found you,” _ the creatures voices garbled off with excitement,  _ “Mine. Forever. Mine. Delicious.” _

Yep. Kenny was rescinding his earlier application for sexy tentacle monsters. If this thing so much as  _ drooled _ wrong, he was filing molestation charges.

Somehow.

Something cold and sticky wrapped around his ankle and  _ pulled _ in one horribly quick movement.

He couldn’t stay on his feet and instead found his body crashing to the ground and scraping against it as he slid.

Fuck. That was the limit apparently.

There were gasps and the audience may as well have popcorn for however helpful they were.

No one would come to save him. No one would help him.

It was a moment of weakness, eyes clenched shut and awaiting the pain of death and the misery of failure, a cry in his heart that resounded with wretchedness.

Someone to help him.

Someone to save him.

_ Kite _ .

Kenny’s eyes shot open, just in time to see a disgustingly large mouth open in preparation to eat him whole.

Fuck. That.

No one had ever rescued him sans Kite. But that didn’t matter, did it? He didn’t  _ need _ a superteen.

Kenny shot his free leg forward and kicked one of the offending teeth with all of his considerable leg strength. It took a lot of time and training to be as good at parkour as he was.

To his satisfaction the creature reeled back in pain as the tooth snapped inwards. Kenny was dragged upwards, but he wasn’t done.

“ _ Fuck you _ ,” he said spitefully while gripping another one of the upper teeth with both arms and tearing it out forcefully.

The motion was apparently enough that the creature released him, sending him flying overhead.

He could swear he could hear Craig’s nasally voice as he flew, “Wow, if I could tell a giant monster fuck you, I would be  _ so _ happy.”

The tiled floor collided with Kenny’s tail bone and in one agonizing moment of pain, he was pretty positive the bone had been broken.

The creature was still reeling but Kenny’s pain muddled brain noticed that he was now on the same side of the hall as his broach.

Hella.

Throwing the tooth at the creature spitefully, he got up unsteadily and glared at the three idiots peeking out from the office.

“Do you  _ want _ to die?  _ Get lost _ !”

The clerk from earlier was the first one to work this out and nodded hurriedly while Craig’s voice could still be heard saying, “Wow, if I could tell the principle to ge--”

Kenny made a dash for his broach. He didn’t have a lot of time. He didn’t even have time to check if anyone was watching, but he was almost sure that Craig’s lot had been the only ones on this side of the hall.

Fuck it. Secret identity or no secret identity, it was a pointless secret to keep if everyone who wasn’t supposed to know died.

“ _ Princess fighting love _ !” He snapped reproachfully, glaring down a tentacle amid a horrible error. This tentacle had decided to take a swing at Kenny mid-transformation.

Bad move.

The creatures scream echoed while he felt the familiar sensation of his body  _ shifting _ and rearranging to best suit the  _ Princess _ .

And the toxic explosion of light doing it all was more than happy to fry the entire tentacle off.

_ “You--you!” _ It screamed, hatred burning in it’s eyes. Shit, how many eyes did it  _ have _ ?  _ “I’ll destroy you!” _

“Neat.” Kenny intoned dryly and used the increased speed and strength she gained from her transformation to punch back another tentacle, watching as it ruptured in places from the sheer force.

_ “You don’t stand a chance against us!” _ The creature said, despite the way it shrunk away from the Princess’ menacing pace.

“Good to know.”

The monster surged forth, remaining teeth bared in a desperate attempt to swallow her whole.

Princess figured this was a good idea and allowed the motion, flicking her wrist while inside the monsters mouth to reveal her wand from whatever subspace dimension it normally hid in.

“Elegant dancing flutter,” she said, just as the huge and horribly disgusting tongue coated her in it’s sticky goop.

There was a delay. Not before the creature or Kenny acted. A delay in space time while it registered the request that had been made. Witnesses all felt as though the world moved just a touch slower in the following moments. They were of course wrong, time is only a subjective thing.

But they were also incredibly right because it was a moment that reality needed to pause the clock in order to ask what the fuck was supposed to happen next.

And then the color burst, burning a hole through the oriphaces of the monster and burning away its flesh. A rainbow of soft pastels that danced in excess and  _ commanded _ the world bend to them.

_ “Yo--u--”  _ The voice was beyond comprehension as the creature didn’t rightly have a mouth to speak through anymore,  _ “--haven’t--won. Hate--.” _ It hissed the final words with such spite it could have sent Kenny reeling.

But she was the Princess right now and merely smiled beauticiously with a voice as sweet as an angels, “Suck my actual dick.”

Those were the last words it heard before dissolving into nothing, remaining tentacles burnt beyond recognition. Princess could hear the murmurs of her audience so she curtsied gracefully and twirled away.

The danger had been quelled. It was time for her to find a safe place to change back.

A sudden  _ jolt _ stopped her mid skip and she collapsed to the ground.

Her heart throbbed, burning, burning, burning, what was happening?

This had never happened before?

It felt like she was dissolving from within.

Burning, twisting, she held in a scream at the cost of biting her own tongue hard enough to breathe and writhed on the floor. She couldn’t hear. Feel. The sensation crawled around, a searing promise of eternal pain and suffering.

A violent cough overtook her, more agonizing then the pain inside of her and she saw the blood blearily through the spots in her vision. She was dying. She coughed up something that wasn’t blood but she couldn’t see any longer.

Movement came to a curdling stop as she felt the world  _ stop _ \--

Words came unbidden to her agonized brain.

_ “There will be limitations.” _

\---

Kyle stirred. He’d awoken three times in the past couple hours and each time, someone had noticed and promptly dosed him with  _ something _ .

He was careful to be still this time, keeping his breathing even. He wasn’t sure what the long term effects of the repeated use of knock out drugs had on a person, but he  _ was _ sure that they couldn’t be good.

He’d tried reaching out with his mind to find help or ask for help or something,  _ anything _ , he’d tried to send something flying at his captures.

He’d tried a lot of things. One of which was succeeding in tightening his own damn ropes with his mind. He really needed to get a handle on the whole telekinetic thing.

Then again, he was pretty sure the medication was fucking with his powers, when he’d tried to do a simple mental count of his captures, he’d ended up locking on the school and the people inside. He was at least mostly sure he wasn’t being held at the school, so that was a weird distance for his stupid powers to fuck off into the distance. When he’d tried to create a wind he’d swear the power released itself outside the window, judging by the way it rattled.

He had no idea how long he’d even been held. It could have been actual days but he hoped to everything on this earth it wasn’t.

His mother would burn this entire town to the ground looking for him if he disappeared for that long.

Since he didn’t smell smoke or hear the screams of innocent victims in the street, he could only assume this meant it had been  _ maybe _ a full day at max.

There were the sounds of people working around him though and the strong stench of chemicals. He tried to assess his current position without actually opening his eyes to check. The last few times he’d opened his eyes, he was in the corner of what looked like a dirty old shack.

He felt his binds for weakness but they were still as painfully tight as he’d made them. Rope around his wrists and ankles, attached to something else behind him. Great. Not exactly the easiest position to free himself from.

There was the sound of a rickety door opening.

“Where’s your partner? I thought you freaks traveled in packs.” he was definitely one of the men Kyle had heard in the room but he couldn’t put a face to the name. He couldn’t think of any of his captors appearances. Just the murmurs as they worked on fuck knows what.

“He’s off duty.” a new older voice grunted in response. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

An offended scoff, “Next time i won’t ask about pigs. Did you bring the shit?”

“Of course.” a grunt of exertion, “Where does this load go?”

“Put it over there by the crates. While you’re at it, deliver the top one to the coffee shop.”

“You’re not my boss, you lowlives are lucky you’re getting our protection.” a pause while something heavy was moved, “And  _ already _ ? How fast do they go through the stuff?”

“They sell a lot of coffee, I guess.”

“With this shit in it? It’s no wonder. People are probably hooked without even knowing it. Killer business model.”

“And ours is to keep getting work done, hurry up and move it over by the crates.”

“...Is that a corpse?”

“Nah, just some punk kid who learned too much or something.”

“So, soon to be corpse?”

There was a pause where it was probable that nonverbal gestures had been used.

“Just make sure I'm not involved in it. Drugs are one thing, murder is a totally different scale.”

“You know how the boss is.”

A grumble of assent went through the group.

The sound of something heavy being placed down near Kyle's head.

A startled intake of breath.

“Oh shit, it's the Broflovski kid.”

“You know him?”

“No. Not personally. I've seen his family around town. he's bit of a wannabe punk so he sticks out.”

“Well, the world will be happy to be rid of the little shit, then. Now get lost, Mitch.”

There was an uneasy shuffle as the man was leaving. Kyle risked peeking open an eye to identify him. Most of the people were paying attention to their individual tasks, aside from the one leaving the room.

‘Mitch’ turned back to one of the members and Kyle strained to recognize him. He had to know him, right?

He didn’t recognize the person but he did recognize the uniform. His sharp intake of breath was luckily concealed by Mitch slamming the door in front of him, turning around to face the others.

“It just feels wrong.” ‘Mitch’ gestured towards him, “The kid isn’t even black!”

What the  _ fuck _ kind of distinction was that?! Kyle had to bite down on his tongue to hold back a cry of confused agitation.

Apparently, Kyle wasn’t the only one who shared that viewpoint, because a few of the sketchy looking people who had been previously ignoring him, looked up from their work to stare incredulously.

“...And?” One of them asked, a look of utter disbelief on his face. He was a popular man, judging by the way two others sidled up next to him in solidarity.

This wasn’t going to end well.

Mitch wasn’t deterred, “I got into this business so that I would be able to shoot black men without consequence! Not allow a white child to be murdered!”

Kyle took a moment to wonder if this guys stance would adjust if his Jewish heritage was revealed. He had a strong feeling the answer was yes. Cartman sure knew how to pick complete scum as henchmen.

Or apparently, complete scumbag police officers.

Another of the sketchy men made a dismissive sound, “Just get lost, Mitch.”

Tension rose in the air and Kyle realized that not a single member was watching him at all, too busy with the stare down.

It would have been the perfect opportunity to sneak away if he could just get out of these fucking ropes.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mitch sneered, hand reaching towards his waist and Kyle had a premonition that things were about to get a  _ lot _ worse. “I don’t see why I have to listen to you.”

Others were reaching towards likely hidden weapons and Kyle did the mental math as to how likely he was to avoid a stray bullet if shit hit the fan.

His odds didn’t look great.

A second that felt like a short eternity ticked by, not a muscle twitched as all parties sized up the situation. Kyle evened his breathing.

He couldn’t attract attention to himself, that was a sure way to attract bullets.

He couldn’t use his powers because they were terminally unreliable at the moment.

He couldn’t struggle out of his bonds or even gnaw through them..

A thought occurred to him and he dared to turn his head over enough to look behind him. Every tense eye was looking away. He could feel that the ropes were attached to something, but what?

A janky metal pole nailed from ground to ceiling. It didn’t look  _ impossible _ to knock out of place, if he had time, privacy, and the ability to make noise. And he was still restrained to hopping or rolling even if he managed it.

“We don’t have to do this.” One of the original voices said placatingly, “We don’t even know what the boss has planned for the kid. We were just supposed to watch him and keep him knocked out for a few hours.”

Kyle closed his eyes and focused. Metal was easy. Or at least easier than most things. Paper felt like it had no substance, wood had traces that splintered with every fuck up he had, metal on the other had?

Metal was solid. It bent for no one. Firm in its existence and ability to continue doing so just as planned. It made it easier to use broad and rough strokes.

Focus on where the pipe and rope met. Get a feel for it. Wait.

Imagine precisely what he wants done but hold off. Ike always told him he was too hasty. He needed to completely assess the target.

“I never liked working with your kind.” Mitch said and Kyle knew it was then or never.

At the same time as the first gunshot rang out, he snapped the metal cleanly and rolled behind some of the crates. Who knew what was inside them but it was highly unlikely they could stop a bullet. His eyes darted about for an exit strategy, ignoring the sounds of mayhem occuring only a few yards away.

The shacks walls looked like they had seen better days. A bullet tore through the crate and whizzed past his ear, making his decision all too easy. With not nearly as much focus as earlier and uncaring if he took the entire fucking shack down, Kyle bent the wall with excessive force, rolling out into the night.

And straight into a homeless guy.

The man looked up, looked to the chaos Kyle had left, down to a bottle of suspicious substance in his hand, shrugged and took another swig.

He was definitely in the bad part of town. Not as far in as he would have thought, maybe only a block from the tracks, but this wasn’t an area to linger in while he was practically hogtied.

“ _ Hey _ , where’d the kid go?!”

That was definitely Kyle’s cue to get the fuck out of dodge. He tried to build wind under him for flight, but only succeeded in knocking the drink out of the now angry homeless man’s hands.

Great.

With great effort and surprising speed, he managed to get on his feet, and hopped out of the direct line of sight of the hole, leaning heavily against the wall as the man grumbled darkly at him.

He could hear them grow closer. Investigating to see how he’d gotten out, where he could have gone. He had maybe seconds before the first one peeked out of the hole.

He couldn’t call for help, Cartman would have his phone, and he couldn’t run away.

He was alone in a shady place with just his wits and his muscle.

The muzzle of a gun became visible and Kyle waited only long enough for a figure to almost make their way out before body slamming the person with full force. The both crashed to the ground with an  _ oomph _ and without waiting for a response, Kyle slammed his forehead into his opponents no less than three times. It was a double edged sword, as Kyle would also be muzzy as a result.

But he didn’t necessarily need sight to sense someone else coming out of the hole.

Sirens were ringing in the distance. Kyle sent up his legs to donkey kick the next man in the genitals, once, twice, and then using the propulsion of an elbow to the sternum of the man he was crushing, he burst to his feet, using his other elbow to jab the gun out of the groaning man’s hand.

The one on the floor hadn’t been disamed though.

Shit, the pain was starting to catch up and Kyle felt the strain of the situation, the throbbing within his skull making focus impossible.

There was no time for that though. In a fight there was never a guarantee of winning. Especially if outnumbered.

He used his body to push the now disarmed man into one of the muff cabbages behind him. There was an  _ oomph _ and a clatter. He took some satisfaction in that.

The sirens drew closer.

“Shit, Mitch called for backup! Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“I knew working with cops was a bad idea!”

Someone grabbed his arm. Kyle calculated his last fucks given and lurched forward, biting onto any piece of flesh he could and, gross as it was, actually drawing blood.

The man screamed and released him, another voice called, “What about the boy?”

“Forget him!”

“But the boss--”

Kyle gnashed his bloodied teeth at the remaining chemists. One of them took a step back despite still being armed.

“Fuck what the boss wants! Just shoot him. I don’t care, I’m getting out of here!”

And to Kyle’s horror, one of the men did just that. Sending a shot in his direction carelessly before rushing off after his retreating party members.

Kyle couldn’t really feel the pain at first. And that was a worry of its own.

Then it was  _ all _ he could feel. The force of it had sent him sprawling backwards and he could only look into the sky and wonder where he’d been hit. He could tell it was somewhere in his shoulder but  _ where _ precisely would make a world of difference as to whether he could survive this.

Nearby the homeless man hiccuped and from the sound of it found another drink.

The sirens were growing closer but he didn’t have any way of knowing if they were close  _ enough _ would they find him? He opened his mouth to speak and found that the pain had torn away his voice.

A gurgled  _ “Ha _ \--” was as far as he got before he felt his thoughts morph into putty. He needed to focus. He wasn’t going to survive otherwise.

Was anyone looking for him? Had anyone even noticed he wasn’t in school today? Was it even still today?

His mom was going to kill him even if he made it out of this alive.

This would have been the perfect timing for the shadowy vigilante to burst out of nowhere with his fucking first aid kit and probably terrible bedside manner.

He’d be gruff but worried and probably say the wrong things but that was okay. He was reliable and Kyle really wanted him to be there.

There was no one but the sky and he ground his teeth.

No matter what sort of wound he had, he definitely wouldn’t make it if he didn’t  _ fight _ .

“ _ Oi _ !” He growled, pushing his voice out through the pain and turning to the distracted hobo, “Get your ass over here.”

This guy clearly had given up his last fuck ages ago, looked at the bleeding child, and gave the very distinctive eyebrow raise of ‘and, good sir, how exactly is this my business?’

Kyle wasn’t having it.

“Apply pressure to the wound.  _ Now _ .” The guy leveled him with the same impassive stare and Kyle felt hopelessness creep into the corner of his heart, “ _ Please _ .” His voice broke at the end.

The apathetic hobo looked to sky in exasperation with a miserable sigh before hobbling over. One look at his hands told Kyle that he was  _ inviting _ infection by even letting the guy in his same sphere.

But infection could be treated so long as he lived long enough to get to a hospital.

Something he didn’t want to admit to built behind his eyes and he held it in.

Brown eyes of a stranger flickered sympathetically down at him.

He was a thing to be pitied. The thought stung more than the bullet.

He needed help. No one had ever helped him when he needed it. No one had cared.

He was going to die.

“ _ Please _ .” he repeated, and tears he couldn’t suppress built at the corners of his eyes, “I don’t wanna die,” he choked. “Please  _ help _ . I--” he couldn’t continue, warm tears now burning his cheeks shamefully and struggling for air.

There was a painful pressure on his shoulder. Whatever infections that might be accompanied with such filthy hands be damned, Kyle felt a stir of shocked gratefulness course through him. But he couldn’t really stop himself now, the dam was broken and he was sobbing helplessly as his blood tried to abandon ship.

He didn’t want to die. Not now. Not here. Not because of fucking Eric Cartman. Not alone.

He wanted help. He wanted to be able to rely on someone.

He wanted something supporting him under the massive weight of the sky.

He looked into the tired eyes of the only person who could help him and tried to say thank you. He couldn’t quite manage it but he hoped the message got across.

There were the sounds of police swarming the area. A resounding gunshot and the man’s brains splattered over Kyle’s face.

“We found the child--” Someone said into a radio, Kyle couldn’t understand the words.

He couldn’t rightly understand reality at all.

“--secure the perimeter--”

“--someone call an ambulance--”

They killed him.

He didn’t want to help. Kyle had forced him. He hadn’t  _ wanted _ to and now he was the one dead.

The world spun as he was lifted and medics asked him a series of questions, insisting he had to stay awake.

He could still feel the warm goop of brain matter even after it had been wiped away. The powerlessness of the ropes even as they were cut away.

And bizarrely, he couldn’t feel at all. Answering questions emotionlessly and staring upwards.

There were monsters in this world, he had been made aware of this on so many occasions, recently he’d been forced to accept that literal monsters existed too.

Now he knew there were demons too.

Creatures that fed off of a rigged world and tore the world apart, one defenseless life at a time.

A mask was placed over his face, making the world fade into black but he dug his heels into the thought.

There were demons and he would find every last fucking one of them.

 


	13. Chapter 13

When was the last time he'd been dead for this long?

Kenny lurched up in the empty hallway. There was no light, there were no people, just Kenny and his foggy memories of the afterlife.

He unstuck himself from the puddle of his own rot, trying to figure out how much of it was blood and how much was a mass of melted flesh and organs.

The smell was intolerable.

And there, lying harmlessly next to his deceased remains, was the broach.

What complete bullshit.

He'd figured the whole  _ conditions may apply _ clause he’d been fed would fit more within the theme of  _ magical girl _ .

Maybe a Cinderella style time limit. Or perhaps he’d only have half the power he normally did. Hell, he’d even spent an evening watching old terrible magical girl anime to see if there was some obvious clause that normally cropped up.

His own attack backlashing on him? Those lousy corporate bastards were so incredibly  _ lucky _ he was immortal. Fucking shitty bastards could have given him more of a warning. Like  _ oh, by the way, if you use the magic wand there’s a slight chance your innards will melt from the inside out. Just thought I’d let you know _ .

What complete bullshit.

Kenny picked up the broach without reluctance. Considering he still had a corpse leftover, there was definitely something toxic to it. The rats would have devoured it otherwise.

He found his phone in the mush, brushing off decayed flesh with his other hand.

Well, it might be the middle of the night but at least it was only sixteen or so hours after he’d been killed. Small wins.

His clothes had seen better days though. He detangled what he could from the body and tried not to smell the rancid overtones as he shook on an undershirt and his shorts. At least he was decent.

He wasn’t going to try saving the sweater dress though. He looked at it forlornly.

He’d miss it, it was an easy choice in the morning and it always felt  _ nice _ .

The smell of his own death was going to follow him home though. He let out a deep sigh.

Was it weird that the smell was honestly just nostalgic? A small part of him sort of enjoyed it, even in how it made his stomach flip nauseously.

It was definitely weird. Probably inevitable though. His stomach eating itself often brought a wave of nostalgia over him so it only made sense something like this would as well.

Huh. He never thought he’d have to break out of a school. Kenny made his way down the empty hall absently and wondered if the alarms would go off if he opened doors from the inside. Were there security cameras? And if so, did the school even care enough to keep them recording after hours?

He’d broken into his elementary school before, when he’d needed a kitchen, and it was the only one he could think of.

Amazing how he hadn’t even thought to ask his friends.

That put a stutter in his step to think about.

Did he forgive Stan?

He didn’t know. He knew he  _ may _ have blown things a bit out of proportion and he knew he  _ wanted _ his friend back, the feel of Stan’s hand holding his own still brought a trill of happy optimism.

It wasn’t that simple though. He stood in front of the back entrance and debated just knocking open the door and making a run for it if any alarms went off.

Running on foot seemed like such a pain though. In the middle of the night in barely anything but his own smelly half decomposed clothes.

He heaved a heavy breath and brought out his phone again. There were missed calls and missed messages but right now he just wanted to get home and then deal with it.

Selecting his brother’s name, Kenny waited as it rang three times before he got a groggy,  _ “Yeah?” _

“Hey, Kev.” Kenny shifted uneasily even though there was no one to see, “Do you think you could pick me up at the high school? In the truck?”

There was a brief silence on the other end and Kenny wondered if questions would follow.

He didn’t really want to answer questions right now.

_ “Be there in ten.” _ Kevin said simply before hanging up.

Kenny’s shoulders sagged in relief as he put away his phone. Ten more minutes and he would be in a smelly old truck with a grumpy old brother.

He could manage for ten minutes.

It was only a minute before he glanced again at the time on his phone, eager for it to say anything but what it did.

“It’s going to be one of  _ those _ ten minutes, isn’t it?” He said to himself, sliding down to door to sit in his own gross misery.

He didn’t want to have time to think to himself.

“Stan Marsh, huh…” he hated the name in a way. It was pathetic the amount of times he’d said it in his lifetime. Compared to the number of times Stan had probably said his name, it was just sad.

Stan had said his name in most part to declare the time of death.

It wasn’t that Stan didn’t care at all. The hug from earlier still weighed on his mind and how... _ little _ it’d meant. Kenny had thought for so long that all he wanted was for Stan to pull him into an embrace just like that.

It fell flat.

The more meaningful moment had been the touch of hands.

Kenny looked at his phone. It had only been four minutes. He hated the obnoxiously subjective nature of time.

Stan cared, Kenny could begrudgingly accept.

“It’s the gap,” he murmured to the empty hallway, “There’s always a huge gap.”

Stan meant the world to him, at least once in his life, and Kenny was a footnote in Stan’s.

He wanted to be number one in a person's heart.

There was a honk from outside and his phone told him that Kevin was a full two minutes early.

God he loved his older brother.

He burst through the door and rushed the truck, not even slowing down enough for his ears to hear whether or not an alarm had gone off.

Kevin wrinkled his nose at the sight of him, gesturing for him to buckle up before he continued down the road, “What happened to your dress?”

Kenny shrugged, peeled off a fleck of dead skin and flicked it to the depths of the messy old truck. The engine was louder than it ought to be, humming and chugging in the familiar pattern of his childhood. The truck was older than he was.

Kevin frowned thoughtfully, “Hm… gonna tell me why you were in the school this late?”

“I was getting lucky?”

“With what? Rotten seafood?”

That was probably a good synopsis of the smell.

“Better than what you can bring home.” Kenny teased.

“Sure.” Kevin said, “You okay without your dress?”

Ow. Right where it hurt, Kenny leaned back in the seat, “It’s gone and that’s pretty much all there is to it. I was kinda missing my old look anyway.”

“Oh.” Kevin said.

Kenny curled up in his seat and hummed in response, he was a bit too tired for this.

They were less than a block away from home when Kevin spoke again.

“...Have you checked your messages?”

“No,” Kenny reached for his phone nervously, “Why?”

Kevin was quick to take the phone before Kenny had even unlocked it, “Shower first. I honestly thought you were out because of it.”

Worry thrummed in Kenny, “Why would you think that?”

Kevin pulled the truck into park before giving Kenny his patented  _ older brother look _ , “Your night gig?”

“Oh.” Kenny said, unbuckling and getting out of the truck, “That.”

It was honestly a toss up whether Kevin knew about Mysterion or not. He could have honestly just thought Kenny had taken on a night job. The anxious vein of thought still churred within him though.

_ If _ Kevin did know, which was its own list of problems, what could possibly be on his phone?

He knew he wasn’t getting the phone back without a fight or obedience though, so he rushed for the bathroom and scrubbed away the decay faster than he thought possible, dumping his clothes absently in the sink while he was at it.

It was nice to wash away the stench of his death at the very least. A nauseous tension left him as he left the bathroom, clad in nothing but a shitty towel.

He’d barely gotten out before he was hit in the face with a hurling cloth. Kenny grappled with it only a moment before pulling it away from his face.

Orange.

He blinked owlishly and looked up to the culprit of tossing it. Kevin shrugged, “I got it for you as a homecoming gift but I wasn’t sure you’d want it.”

It was warm and oversized, Kenny could probably disappear completely within it, curl inside and cannonball at his enemies. The hood had so much fluff and the inside felt like a cloud.

Kenny blinked back an actual tear and swallowed thickly before shoving the thing on.

It was weird, but in one moment he felt like Kenny the filthy mouthed child again.

It wasn't as shocking to relive the past as it was to feel in one earth shattering moment exactly how much he'd missed being just that.

Maybe it was awful when his classmates would assume things about him, whether they were true or not the underlying knowledge that they could decide what was true and that was that.

And maybe he'd experienced some of moments of complete helplessness wearing something like this.

But it was the most distinctly  _ himself _ he had felt in years.

“Thanks…” he said into the fabric, revelling in the muffled sound produced.

Kevin laughed, probably louder than he should this time of night and ruffled the hood.

“If I knew you’d like it this much, I would have given it to you immediately.” Kevin handed over his phone, but to his surprise didn’t gesture for Kenny to follow him out the front door again. Kenny stumbled after, quickly grabbing some sweatpants to jam himself into as he walked.

“Where are we going?”

Kevin was already back in the driver's seat of the truck and starting the engine, “The hospital. You can check your phone now but the short version is Kyle Broflovski was shot.”

Kenny dropped his phone.

“What...?”

“He’s alive. They found ‘im in time.” Kevin looked uncomfortable, eyes furrowed on the road ahead, “I figured you’d be jumping out your window the minute you found out so why not skip the bullshit and just give you a ride.”

Kenny really wished he’d grabbed Mysterion before heading out.

“You don’t know that.” Kenny murmured, picking up his phone, “Maybe I would have waited until visiting hours like a sane human.”

“He was shot outside a meth lab after having been kidnapped.”

“ _ What _ ?!” Kenny fumbled with his phone for information, the flood of texts and messages he’d received from people containing not nearly enough information. Stan sent something vague. Karen sent something worried. Wendy sent something brief but to the point. There were a few voicemails but he didn’t listen to them yet.

“How do you know so much?”

“Sheila Broflovski was really shaken when she heard, she couldn’t even hold her keys straight and started crying outside her house. I gave them a ride to the hospital.”

Wow, Kevin was everyone’s taxi driver today.

The humor fell short as Kenny felt a tremor in his hand.

He’d been dead all day and Kyle got himself kidnapped. That idiot. That stupid idiot. Was he poking his nose where it didn’t belong again? Was he just wrong place, wrong time?

More so than anything else Kenny was struck with thoughts of the kidnapping. If Kyle had been kidnapped, he was either specifically a target or had witnessed something they didn’t want him spilling.

Kenny hadn’t tackled the drug ring yet because they were definitely linked with the police. There was a higher chance of any citizen’s arrest he made being immediately dismissed.

He needed to find out who was behind it and he’d been…distracted. He clenched his phone to the point he worried he’d break it.

“ _ Fuck _ …” He was distracted with petty high school shit and stupid giant sea monsters and dying because he was  _ too old _ to be a magical girl and--

\--and Kyle Broflovski was in the hospital because he couldn’t just concentrate and solve the problems. What had he done last weekend? Had he even bothered going out in cowl? No, the last time he’d worn the stupid thing was to deal with stupid high school problems.

Kevin’s hand landed on his shoulder. It was firm and just enough to shock Kenny out of his spiral.

“This isn’t yer fault.”

What the fuck did Kevin even  _ know _ , “But--”

The hand squeezed, not painful but reassuring, “This isn’t yer fault. You’re doing everything you can. And right now you can visit your friend in the hospital, okay?”

“...We’re not even really friends.” Kenny muttered, slumping under the weight of brotherly assurance.

“Well, ya can work on that when you see him, okay?” Kevin didn’t pull away his hand, “I can practically hear your hero-complex from here. Ya can’t save everyone but ya can be there for those you care about.”

Damn Kevin. Being all good with words and shit. Kenny nodded silently, hiding in the folds of his new favorite parcel of clothing ever.

They were approaching the hospital now. Kenny frowned at what he saw.

Hospitals were among the many places in society that never slept.

Usually, however, they weren’t surrounded by quite as many police cars. Every single one of them attempting to look inconspicuous with grouchy officers sitting inside.

“Kevin…”

Kevin slowed down the car, nodding, “Doesn’t really seem right…”

They stopped a stone's throw away from the building but not quite in the overpacked parking lot.

There were unmarked cars among them.

Kenny returned to his earlier concern.

If Kyle had been kidnapped and shot, whoever had done it probably didn’t want him to live to tell the tale.

“Hey Kev…” Kevin turned, he didn’t look happy but he did look like he’d listen, “Think you could drive around and park over at the back of the building to wait for me?”

“...Kenny, this looks really dangerous.”

Kenny opened the door, “That’s why I’mma need a getaway driver,” he said and hopped out. He could faintly hear Kevin cursing over the engine but he just trodded along to the hospital.

He was just a kid in a giant parka. They were just an army of probably corrupt officers.

Kyle was just a patient inside.

Kenny tugged at the drawstring around the hood and took a certain amount of satisfaction out of the way it clouded the edges of his vision with the fluffy trim.

The hospital loomed and Kenny tried to hide under the gloom of it. He’d somewhat perfected the art of  _ not _ being noticed, through trial and error and due to an insane desire to remain alive.

Not that it was hard. The officers were tense and uneasy, but also horribly bored and most of them were more than happily lost in conversations or distractions. Kenny had never been more grateful for the invention of the cell phone.

The next bit would be more difficult. He felt miffed for the second time that he wasn’t Mysterion at the moment. He didn’t even have his broach. He was just Kenny McCormick. He couldn’t scale buildings or blast people with sprays of burning glitter.

An undead boy in a parka.

He clung to that before he made his way to the front desk where a very tired looking receptionist was seated.

Visiting hours were over, Kenny wasn’t family, and there was no logical reason for her to tell him the room number at three in the morning.

“G’morning,” he greeted as cheerfully as possible.

She gave him one of those tortured looks that those who worked the night shift always had, but her eyes looked a bit cheered at the sound of his voice.

“What can I do for you?” She prompted.

“I’m here to visit my friend, Kyle Broflovski. I don’t know his room number.”

“...At three am?”

Kenny shrugged, “I only just heard.”

Something softened in her expression but she still shook her head, “Unless you’re family, I can’t really make an exception.”

“I kind of thought that might be the case,” he smiled sheepishly, “When do visiting hours start? Would it be possible for me to wait here?”

She had a discouraging expression when she told him it was at nine. He nodded politely and gave her his best thank you.

It was always good to be polite to the staff. Especially when he was doing everything in his power to make his face more distracting than his hands.

He shuffled off to the restroom with the prize hidden in the folds of his coat. The guest book was full of sloppy signatures and unhappy handwriting but Sheila Broflovski’s curvy handwriting still stood out. She hadn’t checked out yet.

Room 304.

Kenny dropped by the front desk again, assuring the lady he’d be back in the morning and replacing the book while he asked her about her night.

Generic answers about a generic evening but it relieved some of his guilt that she enjoyed the attention. With a final compliment to her earrings he disappeared from the area.

He was there, still, crouched by the keycard guarded door to the patient inner sanctums of the hospital, but no one took notice of him. The receptionist would probably swear she saw him leaving.

A uniformed officer entered the building and there was a detective following shortly after. Kenny didn’t like that he recognized the guy.

Among the officers he suspected of colluding with the meth dealers, Sergeant Yates was at the top of the list.

The door to the back opened and Kenny adeptly snuck through while another left. Behind him he could hear the police making rude inquiries about Kyle.

Bastards didn’t even know how to treat underpaid hospital employees.

Kenny made a split second decision, shoving a nearby door jam under the door.

It wouldn’t really delay them long but it was long enough.

He looked up and a tremor went through him as the full impact of the smell and sights of a hospital washed over him.

He hated hospitals.

_ “Where’s Stan?” _

_ The empty room didn’t answer and Kenny cuddled further into the confines of his parka. _

_ This was okay. It was just that he’d wanted to say goodbye. Or hello. Or just see the other boy. _

_ Stan hadn’t visited him once the entire time. He clutched his teddy-bear tighter and tried to breathe. He wasn’t going to cry. _

_ He wasn’t going to get upset. _

_ His head jerked up hopefully at the sound of the door opening. It was a nurse. _

_ He slumped down. _

Fucking hospitals. Kenny shook away the thoughts and continued on his mission.

He todded past the elevators and straight to the stairs, rushing up the two flights without pause, nearly barreling into a surprised janitor when he got to the third floor.

“Sorry,” he said, eyes already darting through room numbers.

The janitor grumbled unpleasantly and--

Kenny glanced back.

The ‘janitor’ was peeking into every room conspicuously.

Kenny made a beeline for room 304, luckily still four more doors down from the janitor’s current location.

He didn’t mean to burst in but he kind of did.

Ike Broflovski startled awake to stare at him and he waved weakly, closing and locking the door behind him. It looked like Kyle had the room to himself so at least there weren’t other patients to worry about.

“Where’s your mom?” He asked, half expecting Sheila to jump out from a corner.

“...Arguing with the police, why?” Ike wrinkled his expression, “Who are you?”

Oh. Ike didn’t recognize him.

It took him a moment to put together that he wasn’t wearing makeup or dolled up in any way.

He really was just Kenny McCormick right now.

“Here to help your brother,” he said instead of an introduction, he gestured to outside of the room, “The dickheads that shot him are here to finish the job.”

“How do you know that?”

Kenny’s answer was cut off by a groan and he dared to enter further in the room to see the patient. Huh, Kyle’s hair was much longer without all the gel slicking it however which way. It looked nice.

Kyle’s eyes were squeezed shut painfully before fluttering open. He looked groggily at his little brother before taking in Kenny and back to Ike.

“Who’s that?” He asked hoarsely.

“Explanations later,” it would probably only lead to more questions if he revealed his identity, “We need to get you out of here. Can you walk?”

Both Broflovski’s looked at him like he was a few cogs short a functioning brain, “He just got out of surgery an  _ hour _ ago.” Ike pointed out.

The door knob jingled and Kenny whipped around.

He could hear the ‘janitor’ cursing before the jingle of keys.

Kenny made his decision. He threw the blanket over Kyle’s head before tossing off his parka and nudging the injured boy aside on the bed to nestle in under the blankets beside him.

“What are you--” Kyle hissed, trying to untangle himself. Kenny put a hand on his shoulder and hoped it had the same impact as Kevin’s.

“Stay quiet. They’re looking for you, not me. Don’t move a muscle.”

The door opened and the janitor scowled at Kenny and Ike.

“Yes?” Kenny asked, sure to layer in some tired pain into his voice,

The man didn’t even bother apologizing, just shuffled off irritated.

Kenny let out a relieved breath and hopped out of bed, relocking the door.

“Why don’t you have a shirt on?” Ike asked while Kyle struggled with the blanket still hiding him from the world. Apparently have an IV in one arm and a gunshot wound in the other made for a poor ability to move about.

“Who doesn’t have a shirt?!” Kyle asked in alarm, “Get this damn blanket off of me!”

Kenny shrugged, pulling down the blanket while he pulled his parka back on.

“I didn’t have time to grab a shirt when I found out,” he looked back to Kyle who was giving him a bewildered look. “You’re in danger here, dude. You can stay and find out exactly how much, or you can come with me.”

He pulled up his hood but Kyle was still giving him a strange look.

“...Mysterion?” He said weakly.

Kenny considered this.

“No.” he said truthfully, omitting the ending  _ not now at least _ .

The unspoken words didn’t seem completely missed however because Kyle tensed in an unreadable way.

Kenny would deal with that later. He could hear the sound of approaching assholes.

Ike was right about moving Kyle. Who knew what was in the IV and how much he might need it post surgery? Kenny sure as fuck didn’t. He wasn’t a damn doctor.

He shoved the chair he was sure Sheila must have vacated under the door and hoped it would be enough for him to come up with something.

Speaking of, Sheila’s voice could be heard getting increasingly loud and indignant as the footsteps approached.

“Who are they?” Kyle asked, looking apprehensive. Actually it would be more accurate to say he’d tossed apprehension out the window and was instead looking equal parts pissed and restless.

“Cops. Or drug dealers. Or both.” Kenny looked out the window. It wouldn’t have been impossible to get them out the second floor but the third floor would be asking too much, “What the hell did you see that they want you dead so badly?”

There are a multitude of silences in the universe. There are the simple and friendly absence of sound. The sound swallowing echo of the night. The delicate silence of tension.

This was a rough silence. He glanced over at Kyle and what he saw in the boy’s expression couldn’t be described.

It was a silence heavy with emotion and even more upsettingly, the lack thereof.

Determination and a vengeful fire.

Kenny coughed uncomfortably, whatever shit Kyle had seen it didn’t change the urgency of the situation, “Do you know who took you?”

This caused Kyle’s scowl to deepen as he bit out the name with venom, “Cartman.”

Kenny blinked.

“Eric Cartman? Fat? Kind of an asshole?”

“There’s no  _ kind of _ about it.” Kyle growled, “He’s a fucking monster.”

Well, shit, what did he miss? He glanced over at Ike for elaboration but the boy had his hands held up in the universal  _ don’t get me involved _ gesture.

“Have you told the police this?”

Ike answered for him, “He hasn’t talked to the police yet. Mom won’t let them.”

Made sense.

The door jiggled again and the arguing outside grew more intense as poor hospital staff was bossed about.

Kenny weighed how likely they were to kill the entire family.

“Hey, Ike, do you know how to livestream?” He asked crouching down and assessing how well he’d fit under the bed.

“Obviously.” Ike snorted, “Why?”

“After I get under the bed, start a stream. Make sure the police all know and keep it directed at Kyle as much as possible. Also, be a doll and don’t tell anyone I’m under here.”

Kenny had just about crammed himself in the awkward space before the door opened to a litany of upset officers.

“We need to talk to Kyle Broflovski.”

Ike pointed the camera of his phone at him, “Hey, Kyle. Say hi to Facebook. Everyone’s been worried about you.”

Kenny took a certain malicious joy in the way he could see Yates’ feet stutter to a halt.

Sheila’s feet placed herself firmly between her son and the officers, “I told you, you can _ not _ question my son without my permission! He just got out of surgery, for god’s sake!”

Ike swiveled the camera to the officers, Kenny really hoped he was aiming for the faces, “You’re being broadcasted live, say hi officers.”

Kenny would pay good money to have that particularly monotoned malicious voice. Ike had a goddamn talent.

The officers were losing steam, backing out of the room, “At least let us stand guard outside, we have reason to believe he might be attacked again.”

Sheila relented that point and Kenny let the rest of the quieting argument fall away.

Kyle’s hand was dangling down, just in front of his head. IV still sticking out of the wrist.

The fingers wiggled.

He reached out and delicately held the hand in his own. It turned out to be the right move because Kyle gave it a squeeze in return.

Oh fucking shitballs.

Kenny tried without much success to calm the emotions that tingled through his entire body at the sensation. He’d say it was like being struck by lightning, but lightning hurt. He knew that from experience.

This was different. He was  _ bubbly _ at the edges.

It wasn’t just that Kyle had reached down to hold his hand. It wasn’t just the gentle squeeze.

It was every emotion within and it was  _ electrifying _ .

Crap. Karen was totally right. Crap, shit, fuck.

“It’s okay, Bubbie,” he heard the mother lean over the bed and place a kiss on her son. One of those terribly wet loud ones. He squeezed the hand sympathetically, “Just get some rest, okay?”

“Okay, ma.” Kyle responded and he did sound groggy.

Kenny made the mistake of closing his own eyes as well, just to rest them for a minute.

\---

Kyle let the pain in his shoulder wake him up. There were voices in his room but really, when weren’t there? And he vaguely saw a tall figure talking to his mom before he glanced over to where Ike was slouched on a chair.

He tried to move his other arm and for just a moment was entirely alarmed that he couldn’t.

The night before washed over him as he felt the fingers fall from his hand. A soft snore from under the bed assured him that it hadn’t actually been a dream.

Though he wasn’t sure about his perception of it all though. He’d been so pumped full of pain medicine, it was amazing he’d even been awake.

“Bubbie, you’re awake!” He looked at his mom and a very exhausted looking Kevin McCormick, “Look who came all the way to see you!”

“Hey.” Damn, he needed water. He looked at his mother pleadingly who already had a cup with a straw at the ready. When he’d more or less sated the scratchy feeling in his throat, he continued, “Are the police still out there?”

His mother scowled towards the door, “They won’t  _ leave _ . They keep talking about how the investigation is ongoing but I don’t see why they can’t just do their jobs instead of bothering my bubbie. If they were doing their jobs to begin with, nothing would have happened to you!” She directed the last of her words towards the door spitefully, something of her Jersey accent coming out in anger.

He tried a placating smile. It hurt his face.

Kevin sidled up, looking faintly worried and Kyle wondered if it had to do with what was hiding under his bed.

That is if he had seen correctly.

“How are you holding up?”

Kyle wanted to shrug but the stab in his shoulder reminded him why that was a terrible bad idea. “I've certainly been better.”

Kevin pat his head and he didn't think ever really get used to how thoughtlessly tactile the oldest McCormick sibling was.

“Were you able to sleep well last night?” There was something searching in the way Kevin asked the question. There was also an extremely unladylike snort from under the bed.

Kyle turned to his mom who was busying herself with tidying the room, “Hey ma, I'm a bit hungry. Could I get some breakfast?”

There were many things Sheila Broflovski could be depended on for. Immediately spring to action when her son looked even a bit peckish was one of them.

In a whirlwind of kisses and gentle assurances, she was out of the room to find him real food.

No sooner had the door closed behind her than Kyle kicked his bed, accidentally startling Ike awake with the motion as well.

“You can come out now.”

An orange blob emerged and Kyle had to do a double take.

Was he  _ sure _ this shapeless blob was Kenny McCormick?

He could barely see a face behind the fuzz and even the face looked a bit different. Did Kenny have more freckles than he thought?

Kevin crossed his arms morosely, “Who told me to wait by the back entrance. All night, twerp. I waited  _ all night _ .”

The orange blob laughed nervously and scratched the back of its hood uselessly, “Whoops?”

Kevin sighed and took his mother’s spot by the bed, shooting Kyle an apologetic look, “Sorry if the menace bothered you.”

“You wound me, Kev.”

Ike cut in, eyes shooting from the blob to Kevin, “Is that Kenny?” Thank god for socially apathetic siblings. Kyle desperately didn’t want to be the one to ask. Ike, however, didn’t wait for an answer to ask his next question, “Kenny’s a dude?”

Kenny shrugged, a hand absently tugging at a drawstring, “I never said I wasn’t.”

He sounded a touch defensive, nervous, Kyle tried to take it in.

Along with the potential Mysterion implications.

It was hard though, his brain was still muggy and the pain in his arm really was starting to throb. He should get a nurse and more pain medicine.

The only thing that really struck through was, “Don’t you have school today?”

Oh, god, memories washed over Kyle and he hoped desperately that Kenny was not in fact Mysterion. It would be too mortifying. No. Absolutely not. He would never be able to look either of them in the face again.

Kenny shrugged, “More important shit to handle.”

It occured muzzily to Kyle that he was the more important shit.

Aw.

Kevin cleared his throat and that was a sign the silence had gotten a bit awkward, “That’s great and all, but you can’t actually be a gremlin living under his bed the entire time he’s here.”

“I can try!” Kenny protested. It was so ridiculous. Chest puffed up and a mischievous glint to his eyes.

Not for the first time, Kyle questioned if he was really looking at Kenny McCormick. It felt as though every time he interacted with her--him?--he learned a new side.

“No, you can’t.” Kevin sighed, “Look, I get your boyfriend is in danger and all but you still need to go to school. Or at the very least not live under his bed like the gremlin you are.”

Kyle wasn’t sure he was breathing and he didn’t even  _ dare  _ to look at Kenny’s expression. He could see that Ike was looking though so he’d be sure to ask the boy later.

“We aren’t dating!” Oh god, he would kill to see the expression that was partnered with that squeaking sound, “I barely know him!”

“Yet you rushed here in the middle of the night because you thought he’d be in danger.” Kevin said dryly.

“He  _ was _ in danger.”

“Huh.” Kevin’s lip twerked and Kyle recognized the motion vaguely from one of his previous conversations with the older man. It had been immediately before Kevin had demolished his argument, “Weird of ya ta deny it so vehemently.” Was Kevin’s accent thicker than normal?

Kenny crossed his arms, looking annoyed, “And why’s that?”

“Well,  _ normally _ , you’d lean into an accusation like that. Last time, as I recall, you kissed po’ Stan Marsh clean on the mouth just to make a point.”

The room was ice.

The siblings stared each other down and Kyle felt a whole new realm of awkward sitting between them.

Kyle looked to his own sibling, desperately mouthing the word  _ help _ .

Ike shook his head, looking for all the world like he would gleefully record the entirety of this monstrosity.

The words caught up with Kyle and he looked at Kenny blankly, “Wait, you kissed Stan? When was  _ that _ ?”

And why the fuck hadn’t Stan  _ told _ him? He would think if it was news enough to text him about a goddamn  _ haircut _ , it was news enough to text him about a  _ kiss _ .

What he could see of Kenny’s face turned an especially red color, “That was a long time ago.”

It was murmured so softly into the sound muffling fabric, Kyle only barely heard it.

Kevin sighed but he didn’t look away from the blob. “Okay, this is getting silly.”

Ike snorted a  _ no shit _ in the background, like the little asshole he is.

Kenny’s sigh mirrored his brothers, “Okay. You’re right. But I’m still not leaving until Kyle is safe.”

Kyle could just about choke on his own breath.

Kevin nodded, “If ya feel that strongly ‘bout it. Just don’ get in over your head.”

“Have I ever?”

“I’m not dignifying that with an answer, twerp.”

Kevin stood up and gestured for Kenny to follow, “You don’t have to leave, but I do want to have a word with you.”

Kenny nodded, sent a nervous glance to the Broflovski’s and followed his brother into the hall.

Kyle let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“ _ What the actual fuck was that _ ?!” He hissed to his brother.

Ike shrugged helplessly, “I think the main bullet points are: your crush has a dick, your crush is here to protect you from the police for some bizarre reason, and your crush plans to live under your bed like, and I’m quoting here, a  _ gremlin _ .”

Kyle wanted desperately to scream into the void. Or anywhere, really.

“Oh, and when you were delirious last night, you called your crush Mysterion.”

“...Let me die in peace.” Kyle groaned, leaning back into his pillow and regretting it as it applied an unfortunate pressure to his wound. “He’s--She’s--He’s...? Not Mysterion, right?”

He knew Ike had no way of knowing but he really wanted to hear it from someone else.

“Dunno. He sounded pretty convincing last night when he said no. But he’s also been a pretty convincing chick for the past few months, so I’d keep in mind he’s probably not a stranger to lying.”

That wasn’t even remotely within the realm of helpful.

“Oh, and he totally macked on Stan before.”

“Ike. You suck.”

The door opened again and the temperature in the room changed completely.

Kenny looked like he’d sucked a lemon and Kevin looked at least three shades paler.

“Change of plans, we have to get you guys out of here. Now.”


	14. Chapter 14

Hustling Kyle into a wheelchair wasn’t the issue. Hell, it wasn’t even the issue to deal with getting the IV rolling with them, Ike was surprisingly handy. It wasn’t an issue to get the guard outside distracted because Sheila Broflovski was already on her way back with breakfast and the guards tried to make themselves as scarce as possible to avoid her wrath.

The issue was the fucking elevator.

“Come  _ on _ …”

“Why are we running away?” Kyle wasn’t being terribly helpful either, asking questions every few seconds.

“ _ Because _ Cartman.” Kenny really hoped that was enough of an explanation.

The elevator  _ finally _ tinged arrival.

It was a split second before opening that Kenny thought about the sort of people who used elevators. He never used them because it was asking for a gruesome death.

...Cartman wouldn’t be caught dead on stairs.

He shoved Kyle’s wheelchair to the side, hitting Ike full on and sending both boys flying to the side. Kevin hurried to check up on them.

Kenny waved at them to hide, both Broflovski’s looked lost but Kevin nodded and began to drag Kyle’s wheelchair around the corner.

The elevator doors opened.

“--done right, do it yoursel--” Cartman’s voice stopped as soon as he spotted Kenny.

“Is that  _ Kinny _ ?”

A tall blond with a rather large bandage over one eye peered at Kenny with curiosity before his face lit up, “Golly! I think it is!”

Ah, definitely Butters.

“When did you get back in town,  _ Kinny _ ?”

Kenny did the mental math. Kevin had to be smart enough to keep both the Broflovski’s out of sight. Hopefully out of the hospital. He didn’t dare avert his gaze to check though. He stepped back, allowing the two to exit the elevator and held up one hand in greeting, “Hey, guys.”

“It’s been too long!” Butters came forward and pulled him into a rigid hug, Kenny felt an odd trepidation at the touch. Butters had always been the most tactile but there was something so  _ stiff _ about it.

By the time Butters had pulled back, Cartman’s eyes were narrowed with suspicion, “What are you doing in the hospital, Kinny? I know you can’t afford treatment. Or have you started selling yourself to make up the difference?” Cartman’s eyes lit up gleefully, “ _ Oh _ , I get it! You’re here because you caught a disease sucking dick for cash, isn’t that it?”

Yeah. Kenny held in a sigh. The entire school was going to be talking about how this was in fact the case by the time he returned to school. Predictable.

Kenny shrugged, “Don’t be jealous just ‘cause I won’t suck yours.”

Butters snickered, sending Cartman a look of gleeful malice. Cartman looked significantly less amused.

“Like I’d want a dirty slut like you sucking me off.”

“Right. That’s what you have Butters for.” Oh, Kenny was bouting a thousand today. It was Butters’ turn to give him a look of sharp disapproval.

“Well hamburgers, Kenny! That’s an awful thing for you to say.”

Funny how Butters hadn’t bothered defending him against Cartman’s accusations…it really was like walking into the past. Butters wasn’t a bad kid at heart, at least not in Kenny’s opinion, but he was the epitome of purity. And purity doesn’t actually lean towards good or bad. Whenever Butters found a cause, he would rigidly embrace it. Unfortunately, he had a tendency of lending his ear to people like Cartman.

That and he’d definitely inherited his father's meanstreak.

“I just calls ‘em as I sees ‘em.” Kenny shrugged and he really did have their full and complete attention because Kevin and the others were sneaking into the elevator behind them seamlessly. “Seems like you’ve been sucking Cartman’s dick since we were kids.”

There was something about the bandage that was bothering Kenny. Butters’ visible eye was narrowed into a dangerous slit. It was strange, Kenny had seen quite a bit of him angry but it normally came to a head with him chiding someone for being awfully irresponsible.

Butters’ voice came out lower than usual and familiar in a truly alarming way, “Homosexuality is wrong, Kenny. You should know that, don’ ya go to church anymore?”

A horrible suspicion filled his gut. He decided to test it.

“Ya know me, ever the anarchist.”

Something  _ gleamed _ in Butters eyes and suddenly it wasn’t a suspicion anymore.

Cartman cut in, “Whatever, we’ve got more important shit to deal with than fucking  _ Kinny _ .”

“Were we fucking? You should have told me, I would have undressed!”

“That’s not what I meant and  _ you know it _ !” Cartman hissed, pulling at Butters’ arm, who was still watching Kenny with something devious bubbling inside. They were heading towards Kyle’s room where Sheila’s voice was already there, loudly demanding answers.

Kenny rushed down the stairs, hoping to god they managed to sneak Kyle and Ike out of the hospital already.

It wasn’t encouraging when the first thing he saw on the first floor was a knocked out janitor. The same one from last night.

Goddamnit.

\---

“Is Kenny going to be okay?”

Kevin didn’t answer, just kept pushing the chair until they reached an old beat-up truck that honestly brought Kyle’s mind to apocalyptic films. It didn’t help that Ike and Kevin more or less manhandled him inside, without a single thought towards the by this time  _ throbbing agony _ that was his shoulder.

Kevin started the car.

“Aren’t we going to wait for Kenny?” At Kyle’s words Kevin’s expression morphed into hesitation, “Why are we running, anyway? If it’s just  _ Cartman _ , I can deal with him!”

“We overheard a phone call.” Kevin said simply. “This isn’t just to protect you, it’s to protect the other people in the hospital.”

The implication sent previous optimism sinking to his toes.

Kevin’s fingers whitened on the wheel, “Kenny will be fine. They’re after you guys, not him.”

“Not me either!” Ike chimed in unhelpfully.

Kevin shook his head, “They think you’ve already been told too much. According to what me and Kenny overheard them say in the hall, the only reason your mom isn’t on the hit list too is because they’re convinced that if  _ she _ knew what you know, she would have already done something.”

Well, they weren’t wrong.

Kyle’s stomach tied into a knott as Kevin pulled away from the hospital, no signs of an orange blob trotting out of the building.

“Where are we going?”

Kevin frowned at the road and it didn’t feel like he knew either. Kyle leaned back in his chair and tried to get the pain in his shoulder to subside.

He could barely move his arm. He was in constant pain or groggy.

And the demons were out doing whatever the hell they liked for whatever reason they liked.

Kyle clenched his good fist, still tasting the bitterness and despising his own weakness.

He was  _ running _ and  _ hiding _ while other people fought his battles.

“Fuck that.” Kyle sat up, “We’re going to Tweek Bros.”

“...I really don’t think coffee is going to help.” Ike said from the backseat.

“Not coffee, we’re getting evidence.”

He was going to take down every single one of those bastards.

\---

Kenny rounded another corner but there was an unconscious police officer there and he had to count to ten mentally in order to calm his nerves.

They were really going to pull this gang war shit in the middle of a hospital. With or without Kyle here.

What fucking bastards.

He’d have to put a stop to this before someone got really hurt. He felt strangely naked.

Well, technically he  _ was _ going commando but that wasn’t it.

He wasn’t the Princess and he wasn’t Mysterion. He wasn’t Kenny the Fancy Transfer Student.

He was the poor boy Cartman delighted in mocking. Powerless as his friends joined in on the laugh.

He felt impossibly small inside the giant parka.

It was a double edged sword.

“Hey! What are you doing by that officer?”

A shot rang out.

Duck.

Pull back.

Lunge forward.

Jab to the solar plexus to temporarily stun. Roundhouse to the side.

Kenny watched the armed man go down in a crumbled mass. Picked up the dropped weapon and fired two rounds into his kneecaps.

He wiped his cheek with his sleeve and saw a glimmer of red. The bullet had grazed him.

He looked down at the groaning man and decided against Kite’s humanitarian nature. If they were gonna start shit in a hospital, they’d better pray to whatever god they believed in that the staff was still willing to treat them.

There were angry voices down the coorridor and Kenny ducked into a room, making a hurried  _ shushing _ sound at the surprised occupant.

“Someone shot Mitch!”

“Those  _ bastards _ , if they think we’re going to cave because of this--”

“I think Daniel is dead, sir.”

Hm, so much for unconscious. Cartman’s men were more ruthless than he thought.

Or maybe it was Chaos’ men?

Dammit. He should have noticed it was Chaos was Butters instead of the curvature of Kite’s ass. He could have put a stop to Chaos  _ ages _ ago.

“Check the rooms.”

Whoops. That was Kenny’s cue.

He burst from the room, staying low to the ground and aimed for anywhere below the waist.

One man went down, his gun clicked uselessly in a plea for reload and he discarded it.

Guns were more Mysterion’s style anyway.

He ran forward at another man, who had the gun aimed squarely at his head. Hesitation is the enemy of those who hope to live, because Kenny got to him before he got the guts to pull the trigger, aiming a high kick straight into his skull and sending him to the ground.

That was more Princess.

The remaining officer did shoot and it got Kenny square in the stomach. He lurched from the pain and turned to his final opponent, biting the arm holding the gun and punching him in the dick.

There.

That was Kenny McCormick.

He felt a bit easier at the knowledge.

There were bigger concerns. Hospital staff hadn’t come to check in on the scene which couldn’t mean anything good.

He stumbled and the blood loss was worse than he thought. Looking down he saw a huge bullet sized hole in his brand new parka.

“ _ Son of a  _ bitch!” He was going to punch Cartman in the  _ dick.  _ Butters too. Hell, everyone in this fucking hospital was going to get a good ol’ fashion dick punch.

As soon as he bled out and revived. With a sigh he reached for one of the discarded guns and shot himself in the head.

\---

The only way to change the status quo was to render the information Kyle had useless.

There were a few ways to do that, such as ensuring no one would believe it even for a lie. Not an ideal path, in his humble opinion.

The second best way was to make it common knowledge.

“Are you recording, Ike?”

“Not yet…are you sure we should do this on livestream? You’re technically breaking in. That’s a crime.”

They hadn’t entered the coffee shop yet. Kevin had found some spare clothes in the truck allowing Kyle freedom from the dreaded  _ hospital gown hell _ . He was still unsteady on his feet but they had determined he didn’t need the saline drip and he was free of that as well.

His shoulder was  _ killing _ him.

“I’ll try to get in legally first, okay? Just…make sure to keep recording, okay? And try not to talk.”

Ike nodded, eyebrows knit with nerves.

Kevin was in the truck. It really felt like he had a getaway driver.

Ike pressed his phone and Kyle opened the front entrance of the coffee shop.

“Hello! And welcome to Tweek Bro’s Coffee!”

“Hi, Mr. Tweak. I was wondering if we could see your backroom.”

\---

The familiar jingle of  _ I’m Too Sexy _ tickled Kenny’s ears and he groaned, coming back to himself and digging in his pocket for his phone.

“...‘Ello?”

_ “Kenny?” _

Oh, hey, Wendy. Not what he was expecting. Kenny glanced at his screen to check the time. Yep, she should definitely still be in school.

“That’s my name.”

_ “Where are you? You never responded to my messages yesterday, I was getting worried. Are you at the hospital? Stan and David are taking a half day to visit Kyle. Are you okay?” _

That was a lot of questions without pause. Kenny silently awarded Wendy the gold star for impatient babbling before rolling over and pulling himself to his feet.

“I was busy…did you say Stan and David are heading  _ here _ ?”

_ “You are at the hospital then?” _

“Shit, that’s not important. They can’t come  _ here _ , dude! There’s an active shooter situation!”

_ “WHAT?” _

Kenny held the phone away from his ear. She had a pair of lungs on her, that was for sure.

“Uh, it’s a long story, just don’t let them come here, okay?”

_ “Mr. Marsh already picked them up!” _

Well, that was going to be the gooey topping to it all. Randy Marsh inside the hospital while a mini gang war commenced.

The hospital intercom crackled to life.

Kenny was suddenly aware it had been eerily silent up until now. None of the normal announcements, dull music, or chatter a hospital should have.

**“** **_Kahl_ ** **. I know you’re still here. You can’t have gone far injured. Come out or I start with your mom.”**

Kenny absently brough the phone back to his ear, Wendy had been saying something he completely missed.

_ “--hold on, Kyle’s livestreaming on Facebook? I’ll call back, Kenny, please stay safe.” _

Easier said than done.

Kenny deposited the phone into his pocket and stared into the empty space in front of him.

Had he made it worse? Kyle’s  _ mom _ was in danger now.

What could he do? He moved one step forward. And another. And then another.

What could he do?

Panic eased into the gentle fog clouding his vision but still he stormed forth.

Find Cartman. Punch his dick.

Sounded like a solid fucking plan. He tore down the hallway and to the staircase. Where would the intercom be coming from? Theoretically the nurses stations should have access to it but which one?

If he wanted Kyle to come to him, he can’t have wandered far from the third floor. Two flights later and he took a moment to breathe while he calculated the way to maximize survival of the most people. There was a cry from a floor above him and he looked up in time to see several menacing bastards climbing down.

By the seat of his pants it is then.

He opened the door with his hands raised in surrender and waited for them to notice his approach.

\---

It might have gotten out of hand. One minute he’s arguing with Mr. Tweak and the next Ike had snuck behind the counter and there were  _ crates _ of the stuff in the backroom.

Mrs. Tweak was already calling the police as they yelled at the both of them but Kyle was too busy pulling open one of them open and looking at the seemingly endless amount of white powder.

He pinched his nose, scared to breathe it in.

“This is  _ private _ property!”

Kyle rounded on the yelling man, “What  _ is _ that?! It’s the same stuff I saw when I was kidnapped!” A bit of a fib, but he was on camera, “They talked about how they were supplying a coffee shop! Was it  _ you _ ?” He grabbed an empty coffee cup from a stack stored back here, “Have you been  _ putting it in the coffee _ ?!”

He realized he didn’t have to pretend to sound scandalized. He  _ was _ scandalized. This sort of demonic behavior was going to get people  _ killed _ .

Oh, he should have been ready for the blow but he wasn’t. Mr. Tweak’s hit was harsh enough to send him staggering back into the box of powder which toppled over in response and offered him no reprieve from the ground.

“ _ Kyle _ !” Ike sounded scared. Oh god, what had he been thinking? He brought his baby brother into a situation with two dangerous drug--were they really dealing if it was secret drugging? Kyle could not for the life of him name the crime they’d committed, but there had to be  _ several _ .

“You can’t come in here and pretend you know everything! Do you know how hard it is to own a business?!”

Kyle was almost hopeful the man was about to give him a confession on camera but no such luck. Mrs. Tweak placed a warning hand on her husband’s shoulder and sent Ike a sharp look.

“The police will sort you  _ delinquents _ out,” she said icily. “They’re on their way.”

\---

“ _ Kinny _ ? I thought you already went home.”

Kenny continued his measured approach, catching sight of Sheila tied up next to a few nurses and a doctor. All of them were blindfolded. Sheila alone was gagged but honestly, it didn’t look like the gag was winning.

Cartman was lounging at the desk with a bag of cheesy poofs in one hand and the intercom in the other. Flanked by armed men.

The police that had been up here were on the ground immobile. Kenny wasn’t confident they were breathing.

Butters was nowhere to be seen. Not a comforting thought.

“Let these people go.”

Cartman’s eyebrow shot up and he leaned forward in his chair, “Heroics really don’t suit you, po’ boy. What has sand up your vagina?”

“Too much sex on the beach with your mom.”

“‘AYE! Don’t you talk about my mom like that!”

Kenny took another step forward even as the door to the staircase opened and more goons piled in.

He had one goal.

“Afraid I might be your new daddy?” Kenny smiled crookedly under the parka, “C’mere, son. Let’s play catch.”

“Kenny.” Cartman’s growled, “I’m warning you to get lost. We used to be tight so I’m  _ very _ charitably not killing you.”

“Gallant.” Kenny drawled. He was within spitting distance of Cartman but the posture of the many armed goons in the room stated very clearly that he shouldn’t get any closer.

“Why are you here, anyway?” Cartman frowned and if you listened, you could  _ hear  _ the whirring as his malicious little brain tried to reason out Kenny's behavior.

Kenny didn't need that, “Needed the STD medicine. You got it the first time, Sherlock.”

Apparently appeasing his overinflated ego wasn't quite enough because he was still measuring Kenny carefully.

Finally a smile crawled across his face.

Kenny's stomach sank.

Eric Cartman had a great many different types of smiles.

He could remember when they were children, when they used to play a game of guessing the other’s emotion just by the lower half of their face.

Kenny always won.

But there was no winning when Cartman smiled like that, the coy kitten who had found a mouse and was  _ relishing _ in its terror as it murdered the critter slowly.

“ _ Oh, _ I know why.”

He couldn't know about Kenny's connection to Kyle. Even if he  _ did _ recognize him as the transfer student, he never talked to Kyle at school.

What could he  _ possibly  _ know?

Cartman’s voice raised up into the stage voice of one who hopes to be overheard, catching the attention of his hostages.

“You wanna be a hero because of Mysterion and Kite, right?”

The goons tittered in amusement.

“Ya know, I think this town has really gone downhill ever since those villainous vigilantes showed up. Think about it, there were no monsters appearing out of nowhere, there was no  _ Professor Chaos _ . Why, I'm sure that even poor  _ Kahl _ wouldn't have been shot if not for those awful hero wannabes.”

He didn’t have to know where Cartman was taking this to know that he needed to disrupt it somehow. All the hostages were at attention, hanging on his every word and Cartman’s voice was hitting joyous pitch that could only spell trouble.

“Why, if not for them, you wouldn’t have been inspired to do something so  _ stupid _ and you would have lived.” Cartman made an easy to understand hand gesture at a minion, “Shoot him.”

It was a clean shot through his head.

\---

They kept streaming right up until the phone was confiscated by an arresting officer. Kyle didn’t have the time to check the response to the stream, if there even was any, he was too busy trying to remember how to breathe past pain in the backseat of a police vehicle.

Despite his brother warning the officers about his injury, they insisted on cuffing him, something distinctly cruel in the motion.

Kevin was arguing with one of the officers about something Kyle couldn’t hear. Ike was in the back of a separate vehicle.

Shit, hadn’t Kenny sort of implied the police were some of the people trying to kill him? Was this it? Or had he spread the information he knew far enough that killing him would be redundant?

Would they do it anyway out of spite?

He had no idea what sort of characters these crooked police were, other than the one who had attempted to ‘rescue’ him was  _ extremely _ racist.

What was his name?

“Mitch.”

The officer in the front of the car jolted and turned to look at him with a haunted expression.

“Where did you hear that name?!”

Kyle blinked blearily, shit, focusing on the here and now was a royal bitch. “Mitch?” He repeated.

The officer shuddered, “You’re working for Mitch Conner, aren’t you? Trying to take us down because we wouldn’t get with your agenda!”

“No…?”

“Don’t lie to me! I know how you bastards work! It’s no longer about the shooting! It’s all kidnapping and selling drugs. What do we get out it?! You can tell your boss that the SPPD has had  _ enough _ .”

“...Enough of?” God he wished he still had a phone to record with.

“All the underground deals! Sure, we were able to pin the crimes on black people--” Oh goddamnit, not this shit again, “--but it hardly seems worth it. You bastards pay us dimes on the dollar!”

“Uh-huh.” Or maybe a notepad at least? He felt bleary enough that he wasn’t confident he’d remember the idiots terrified rambling later on. Why hadn’t Mr. Tweak been this easy?

“We’re more than capable of running an operation  _ without _ Mitch Conner’s support!”

“What if Mitch turns against you?” He couldn’t help prodding. He’d thought for sure Cartman was behind this whole thing but perhaps this Mitch asshole was somehow at the top.

Wait, that didn’t make sense. Was it a different Mitch from the one at the shack?

He didn’t have time to react because the terrified rambling of the officer was cut short by his partner arriving and slamming shut the driver door.

“We’re taking this one in. We weren’t able to keep the younger one,” he grumbled.

“This one is working for Mitch Conner!”

The partner looked at him like he was insane, “This is the same brat Conner had kidnapped,  _ remember _ ?”

Kyle, at a loss for how to continue paying attention to the situation beyond the pain, noted that the paranoid one had a cup of Tweek Bro’s coffee in his trembling hands.

Ah. That spoke loads.

He let the peace of unconsciousness take him.

\---

Kenny awoke to a lot of things. Sheila Broflovski’s yelling. People rushing about. What sounded like police questioning. The sound of a reporter.

Cartman’s sweetest simpers of undiluted honey.

That last part was what got him to open his eyes.

Sheila and Cartman were competing for camera time with a rather rattled looking reporter while hospital staff rushed about trying to fix the damage that had been done.

There was no signs of the goons.

“It’s those  _ vigilantes _ that are the problem!”

“I was  _ so _ scared.”

“Now, my poor Kyle is under arrest because of their toxic influence! I will not stand for it!”

“They said they’d kill my mom if I didn’t comply.”

Oh what the actual fuck.

Kenny rested his cheek on the cool ground.

Cartman, that manipulative evil fuck, was going to use this situation to shift public opinion against the ‘heroes’. And judging by the way Sheila Broflovski was proudly declaring her stance to the camera, it was already working.

And since when was Kyle arrested? What did he  _ miss _ ? He couldn’t have been dead more than an hour.

Slowly, he got to his feet. He avoided catching Cartman’s attention but luckily the camera whore in him had no regard for anything but the glorious victory.

This had been Professor Chaos’ goal all along as well. Turn the opinion against heroes. Was it Cartman and Butters working in tandem? Where was Butters?

Room 304 was guarded by no less than four officers. He figured it was safe to say Kyle was back in there.

“Who are you?” One sneered as he tried to squeak by.

“Friend?” He replied.

“No one gets in or out without special permission. The patient is under arrest.”

“Neat.” Kenny clipped and meandered over to room 306 without preamble.

A patient squawked at him. He just made his way to the window and crawled out. There wasn’t much in the way of a ledge but he’d definitely climbed worse. Besides, if he died, he was just reset from start.

He dimly noted he wasn’t taking this situation very well.

There was a good yard of open air between the window he was hanging out of and the one he wanted to be at.

He made the jump, a trill of exhilarated terror rushing through him as he grappled to keep a firm grip on the one.

He slipped.

The glass fell away as open air accepted him in its embrace. Falling from a long height was a painful way to die.

Kenny flailed for a new hand hold and found the barest hint of a ledge, at least a foot under the window he wanted to be crawling into.

Urgh.

Climbing walls was such an unbelievably obnoxious process. Kenny hung for a moment, calculating the best way up was the best way to maximize success but his fingers couldn’t hold on long term. Choices.

The window opened.

“Jesus christ, Kenny!” Two sets of arms shot out, taking his arm firmly and dragging him up.

Stan’s face was contorted in worry and nausea. David looked panicked.

And Kyle was handcuffed to a bed.

“Kinky.” Kenny said when his gaze meandered that way. “I interrupt a threeway?”

“What the hell were you doing?” Stan asked, “Couldn’t you have just  _ knocked _ ?”

“Where’s the flair in that?” Kenny shrugged and waved at David who was giving him an odd look. “Question still stands, what’s got Kyle handcuffed to a bed?”

The boys shifted uneasily and Kenny took it as an opportunity to collapse bonelessly on a chair. He really was tired. But so long as he was looking at Kyle he could make sure the idiot stayed out of danger.

“Breaking and entering?” Kyle said finally, he didn’t sound entirely sure himself, “I found out the Tweak’s were spiking their coffee with drugs and I kind of exposed them.”

“Oh.” Well, there was an entire story there but Kenny didn’t really feel like asking about it just yet, especially not with David and Stan sending them both weird looks, “Neat.”

“When did you guys get so friendly?” Stan asked finally, sending Kyle a  _ look _ that Kenny was way too tired to even try deciphering, “Why were you trying to sneak in his window anyway?”

“You caught us, Stan. We’re in a sordid love affair. I’m sorry Kyle, my love, I can no longer hide from our romance from your husband.” Kenny draped an arm over his eyes dramatically and wow, having the light cut out of his life for a second was an awfully nice feeling, when was it last that he’d had a proper sleep that wasn’t in death? “Alas, he’s too quick-witted, he wishes to tear us apart but I will persevere! We shall consummate our love right here.”

Kenny had long since lost track of where his babble was going. It was the pretty typical bullshit he might pull for the occasion. He could hear David losing his shit in laughter though, which was satisfying.

“Har har, Kenny.” Stan was less amused, the nasal sound totally said he was pinching his nose. Dweeb. “Don’t be an asshole, just answer the question.”

Kyle’s voice cut in, “Kenny saved me.”

Kenny’s eyes shot open and he removed the melodramatic arm to look at Kyle.

That was so direct. Straight forward. Honest. Sounded more dramatic than his entire speech.

And it also made his stomach do a full backflip. Fucking Kyle Broflovski was going to become a serious weakness.

“From what?” David asked.

“The loneliness of an empty hospital room.” Kenny answered instead, “Some friends you guys are, I had to stand in.”

Except Stan was here now. Visiting. As though Kyle meant more to him than his unease with hospitals. Kenny let that sting simmer.

“He found out I was in danger and came over. Then he snuck me out of the hospital before the hostage situation got out of hand.” Kyle said.

“...Dude, you are killing my dramatic flair.” Kenny deadpanned, trying to look anywhere but the embarrassingly sincere look of gratefulness on Kyle’s face.

“Wait, I think we’re missing a lot of information.” Stan piped in and Kenny closed his eyes miserably.

“Have Mr. bondage-kink explain it to you. I’m taking a nap.” Kenny sunk from his chair and allowed himself to be entirely engulfed in orange, relishing in the sound of Kyle’s defensive squawks and letting sleep overtake him over Stan’s complaints.

This conversation was way too embarrassing to have with sleep deprivation.

\---

Kyle stared at the dissolving blob who began to snore before back to the inquisitive eyes of his friends.

David looked like he was having the time of his life, Kyle would begrudge that amused smirk for years to come. He swore he would. Or perhaps that was just the blissful painkillers numbing reality.

Everything was groggy but at least his shoulder didn’t feel like death. Small wins.

“So,” Stan began, sitting on the edge of the bed and shooting Kenny’s snoring form a look, “What the actual fuck?”

Kyle didn’t shrug because that would have been pain incarnate. He did angle his head in a slightly  _ what can ya do _ tip before speaking, “It all happened really fast? I’m still not even sure how much is real and how much was a painkiller induced hallucination dream.”

“Okay, but  _ Kenny _ is asleep on your hospital floor. After almost dying trying to get in here.” David said,pointing at the orange, “That’s a bit of a jump from  _ she won’t talk to me at all _ .” His brows furrowed, “Also, did I hear right? Is Kenny a guy?”

“I think? I’m pretty sure I didn’t see boobs when he stripped--”

“--He  _ what _ ?”

“--But I’m also not even remotely sure about the pronoun thing. His brother was calling him he and him though, so I figure that’s safe?”

“Okay…” David continued carefully, sitting on a vacated chair, “Yeah, that still doesn’t explain much.”

Stan raised a hand, “Okay, so I don’t know about the weird window shit but last I checked Kenny’s a dude.”

“...Excuse me, what?” David asked.

Kyle’s mind flashed back to what Kevin said in the morning.

“ _ You  _ kissed Kenny and didn’t tell me!” He instantly regretted the accusatory finger he pointed at Stan but also he felt it was necessary.

This was a level of betrayal that deserved a goddamn dramatic score in the background.

Stan balked, “When the hell did I do that?!”

“Kevin said so!”

“I didn’t--wait--are you talking about… Kenny  _ kissed me _ , okay?! And it was a really long time ago.”

David held up a timeout symbol between them, “Alright. I think we’re all jumping to the accusation stage without doing the questioning thing. Stan, the fuck?”

“We were like eight! Shelly was making fun of us and Kenny took the joke too far.”

Kyle frowned, “Wait, I thought you said you  _ didn’t _ know Kenny before he moved away?”

“I didn’t recognize him!”

Something about the words hung in the air and Kyle tried to figure out why they seemed important but the cloud coverage in his brain was heavy.

It was David that put his half cooked thought to words, “ _ Oh _ , that’s why he was pissed.”

Stan did not look like he understood at all, “What do you mean?”

“I always thought it was weird. Kenny was perfectly nice in class and then I take her--him over to meet you guys, and literally as soon as Stan introduced himself the whole bitch-thing started.”

Stan’s eyes widened and he looked over to the snoring blob, Kyle hoped to god they were real snores, this would be all levels of awkward if Kenny was actually listening.

“But he didn’t  _ tell me _ .” Stan whined, “And he looked like a chick! What was I supposed to think?”

David sighed and leaned forward to pat Stan’s back companionably, “I mean that depends. How close were you?”

“Uh… I dunno, we hung out and played video games?” Stan frowned thoughtfully, “I mean, we were definitely friends, I guess.”

“You guess.” Kyle added blandly.

Stan Marsh was many things. He was a great friend, he was fairly athletic, and he could be pretty level headed in emergency situations.

Master of emotions he was not.

“It was a long time ago.  _ Everyone _ was sort of friends in elementary school, small town thing.”

Kyle let it drop, but felt his stomach sink somehow.

Kenny had kissed Stan, apparently.

Kenny had lost his shit when Stan forgot him.

It wasn’t a lot to go on if he was honest but he couldn’t help but feel it build into an uneasy suspicion inside him. Kenny had saved him but if Kenny  _ was _ Mysterion, that was probably just a part of the job. Hell, even if he was actually the Princess and Kyle’s initial suspicion was correct it was still probably purely out of obligation.

David was the next one to pipe up, “So, did Kenny always have a potty mouth or is that a new thing?”

“Definitely not new.”

“Huh…he always seems pretty refined at school? Honestly, when he started throwing sexual innuendos out, I was half convinced it was a doppelganger.”

“ _ See _ , it makes sense I didn’t recognize him!”

It was quickly devolving into a circular quipping match so Kyle tuned them out.

He felt sleepiness curve around him. If Kenny felt safe enough to knock out, that meant some of the danger had passed, right? He could rest?

The hospital was too loud and he could still hear his mother railing about something.

None of the officers had listened to him about Cartman.

If the Tweak’s pressed charges, was he going to prison? He still wasn’t even sure what he was charged with. There was definitely some legal problem if he hadn’t been informed but Kyle couldn’t be sure if that was a police drama thing or not.

He took an inventory of the things he knew for a fact.

Being shot sucks.

Mitch Conner is some sort of bigwig.

Never drink Tweek Bro’s coffee.

Cartman was doing something evil involving drugs.

The police force was corrupt.

That was it. All that crap and he still felt like he had very little to show for it. He’d almost died and all he knew were vague details. He needed help. He looked towards Kenny again.

He needed to talk to Mysterion. They should have been sharing intel from the beginning. He’d spent too much time on a petty rivalry based on what could have been nothing.

Was Kenny really Mysterion? And if so, should he reveal his identity?

It was hard to believe at best. Even with the current evidence. Kenny at school was nothing like the dark shadow of grump rage that made up Mysterion. And this Kenny…

He didn’t know what to make of this Kenny. He was drawn in like a vortex and couldn’t look away. He was brash, crude, and nonchalant in the extreme.

Was this the real Kenny or another facade?

He wanted to know. He clenched his bedsheet and remembered the warmth of Kenny’s calloused hand from the previous night.

Who was Kenny McCormick really?

 


	15. Chapter 15

Kenny stirred.

He’d done the quick mental check of where he should be sleeping and noted that the floor was alarmingly soft.

Soft enough that it probably wasn’t a floor.

Also he was warm.

And something was breathing next to him.

He propped open an eye but he was only met with the plush fabric of the parka he had hidden within. He did the next best step of his journey and turtled his head out of the top.

The room was dim. There was a light filtering in from the hallway but not much else.

The thing next to him was still breathing so he chanced a peek at the sleeping face of Kyle Broflovski.

He stifled an alarmed sound. He had _not_ fallen asleep on the bed, had he? He hadn’t… had he?

He surveyed the room but it was empty of all but Ike, who was quietly reading a book in the corner.

“Wh--” he stifled his own voice. Kyle was sleeping. Recovering patients were supposed to sleep, right?

Ike looked up, ah, there was that patented unimpressed expression he was starting to expect from the twerp.

“Stan and David thought it would be funny.”

...Assholes.

It made Kenny wonder very seriously about just how deeply he’d been sleeping if he didn’t remember being moved. He was normally a pretty light sleeper.

“They were gonna bring you home but you started complaining. I don’t think you were completely awake.” There was something impish in the boys voice. Kenny decided he really didn’t want to know whatever his half unconscious mind had to say under these particular circumstances.

“It’s about six in the evening.” Ike stretched, “I’m going to grab some dinner. Want me to get you anything?”

As if on cue, Kenny’s stomach didn’t so much as gurgle as it pleaded loudly for attention.

“Something edible.”

“Got’cha.”

And Ike was gone.

Kenny shifted his weight. He should get off the bed. What if the mother came in and saw? Also Kyle was asleep. He moved to sit up but the sound caused the bed to creak and he froze.

Still the even breath of sleep.

Kenny sighed and leaned back into the pillow they’d left him. It was a tight fit, these beds weren’t made for two people and there wasn’t currently a part of his right side that wasn’t brushing against Kyle.

He was going to tar and feather Stan next time he saw him, he could probably get Cartman to hel--...

He sagged.

Cartman had gone off the deep end. Butters was clearly _insane_ , and who knew if his friendship with Stan was reparable.

He couldn’t pull pranks with Cartman anymore. In an ideal world, he was going to have to find a way to put his old frenemy behind bars.

He wasn’t going to chill with Butters anymore either… There must have been something _broken_ inside that boy for him to have let shit get this out of hand, and he was just as guilty as Cartman.

Something soft and warm wrapped around his hand Kenny almost startled straight off the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Kyle slurred, sounding maybe only a quarter awake, hand still holding onto Kenny’s.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Kenny muffled, tracing the curve of the hand with his thumb.

“You look like ya wanna cry, dollface.”

Kenny snorted, “I don’t think I count as a dollface.” Did Kyle lose control of the accent when he was sleepy? Cute.

“‘Course ya’re a dollface.” Kyle said, his eyes were only half open but still focused on Kenny, “You’re breathtaking.”

Holyfuckingshit.

Kenny sank into his coat and debated exactly how much pain meds Kyle was on. _Clearly_ it was too fucking much because this guy was nowhere _near_ this smooth a month ago.

The reverberation of his heart made the entire world dizzying, he clenched his eyes shut and willed it to calm down.

And then Kyle squeezed his damn hand. Like a fucking horrible seductive asshole he apparently was.

“Would have thought the dick thing was a deal breaker.” Kenny tried to laugh, crude humor usually made people rethink things. He could play this off like his face didn’t feel like the actual inferno fires burning in hell.

“Don’ matter.” Kyle said, “It’s you that matters.”

Kenny’s free hand did a complicated series of twitches that amounted to _what the fuuuuck_. He managed to keep the spasm from his taken one.

He wasn’t made to handle things like this. Sure, he’d been complimented before but it normally felt superficial and meaningless.

This was different.

This was a boy he _liked_ holding his hand and _saying_ things that no one should be able to say with a straight face. It was motherfucking _embarrassing_.

He wanted desperately to make a run for it and jump out the damn window.

He also really didn’t want to let go of the hand gently caressing his knuckles. He would like to petition for that hand to always do exactly that. Still, it would help if he wasn’t choking on his own embarrassment.

“Dude, you’re high as fuck. Tell me that off the morpheme and...” he tried to come up with a witty way to end it, he drew a blank, “...We’ll talk.”

Kyle groaned, “I _try_. It’s impossible.”

“Why’s that?” This was a disaster. Kenny should not spur this on any further, he was already having enough trouble as it was.

“You’re you.” Kyle said, as though it answered all questions in the universe, “And I’m me.”

Yeah. The kid was definitely high off his ass.

It was something of a relief. A disappointed relief. Kyle was probably just tripping balls and that was why he was suddenly the smoothest motherfucker ever.

“That deduction take you awhile?”

“Don’t be an asshole.” Kyle nudged him slightly, it brought him closer to the edge of the bed but he didn’t nudge back. That would put him _way_ too close to the warm seductive asshole, “What I’m saying is…what were we talking about?”

Kenny grasped for a subject, anything, literally anything to distract Kyle from the actual topic at hand, it could have been geese, or stars, or the higher points of tentacle porn, but instead he said, “Kite’s ass.”

Kyle _choked_.

He couldn’t be blamed. It was the first thing that normally came to his mind when he was on a blank.

Which held another distinctly problematic line of issues. He was going to have to literally pay Karen to therapist him through the complicated emotions he had for three different guys at this point.

He made a mental note to quit guys completely and return to the heavenly pillows of boobs.

...Kite’s ass would make some pretty heavenly pillows though.

 _Dammit_.

“That is _not_ what we were talking about!” Kyle squeaked, looking a bit more awake, just from the alarm.

Kenny shrugged, roll with it, “We should have been. Have you _seen_ the way the spandex hugs to those curves? _Damn_.”

Kyle’s hand had started squeezing his with a sweaty panic and Kenny wondered if he was jealous.

He was disappointed that he kind of wanted him to be. What kind of petty shit was that? What was the point in making the poor guy jealous?

It would be nice though.

“I wasn’t looking at, well, that area,” Kyle coughed, still several pitches higher than normal, “Why were you?”

“Boy’s flauntin’ it. I’ve got eyes,” he grinned. “The abs are hella hot too.”

“...I have abs too.” Kyle complained and oh my god, he was _pouting_. Pouting was better than jealousy. Or was pouting inspired by jealousy? Ugh, Dr. Karen was going to have her hands full with this.

Kenny smirked. “Bet they aren’t as good as his.”

Kyle glared, “Bet you they’re better!”

“Prove it.”

Oh shit, he did. Kyle brought their joined hands to his stomach, pressing Kenny’s down against it, and it was definitely harder than Kenny had expected. He was tempted to feel it up a little.

Shit, this had officially entered dangerous territory, Kenny wasn’t going to feel up a guy who didn’t seem awake enough to remember what informed consent even _meant_.

“ _See_!” Kyle said triumphantly and Kenny kind of wanted to kiss the little self-satisfied smile off of his face.

 _Shit_. Kenny kept his entire body completely still in hopes that his blood flow would stop and he would die right now instead of lying on a bed with a smug idiot who was way hotter than he should be.

Kenny was going to find and toss every single container of gel in the Broflovski household because Kyle’s freed curls was a _very_ good look on him.

First he had to find a way to get his hand off of the tempting stomach.

“Pshah, that’s nothing.” Kenny lied, lifting his and Kyle’s hand, “Mine are better.”

Putting Kyle’s hand on his own stomach was less successful. Kyle had a thin hospital gown. Kenny had a giant ridiculous parka.

“Feels like fluff.” Kyle said, the little asshole he is.

“Under the parka is amazing.”

“I’m sure.” Kyle’s hand squeezed the fabric absently and froze. “There’s a hole.”

“Oh yeah.” Kenny frowned at where Kyle’s finger was poking through, “Lucky shot.”

“Shot?”

“Uh…” Kyle was pretty high right now anyway, what was the harm in the truth, “Gunshot from earlier.”

“ _Gunshot_?” Now Kyle seemed disturbingly sober, looking over in horror, “Are you okay?!” He pulled away the fabric and felt for injury, sitting up slightly as he did so, “What happened?”

Wow. That was a lot of concern.

“Missed me completely.” Kenny lied. “Just the punks from before. Nothin’ to worry about.”

Kyle’s eyes were wide and searching. Kenny hadn’t the foggiest idea what they were searching for but he met them with a shrug.

“Wow. You guys have no decency, do you?”

Ike had such fantastic timing. Kenny did the mental count, Kyle half leaning over him with a hand up his parka? Check. Intense and meaningful stare that could be interpreted a multitude of ways? Obviously. Witness to misinterpret the scene? Duh.

Why exactly had his life become a ridiculous romantic comedy again?

Kyle retracted his hand as though it had been burned and looked at his brother with pleading eyes, “It’s not like that!”

“Sure,” Ike said, carrying over the delicious smell of cheap shitty Chinese food.

Kenny accepted a package gratefully. Kyle was staring at his own in frustration and attempting to hold chopsticks with his left hand…which was apparently not the dominant one.

“Ike, please tell me you got forks,” Kyle begged.

Ike sat with his own food and shot his brother a dry look, “Have your boyfriend feed you. He used to live in Japan, right? Should have the chopsticks thing down pat.”

“They do have forks in Japan, ya know.” Kenny defended, pointedly ignoring the first bit.

“So you _can’t_ use chopsticks?” Ike asked.

“Of course I can--”

“Cool, then help my bro.”

Kenny felt like he’d been played. Did Ike do this on purpose? To what end? Mortify them both to death?

Kyle stabbed some chicken with a stick, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” The chicken fell off the end of the pike as he lifted it.

...God fucking dammit.

Kenny sighed and picked it up deftly with his own chopsticks, holding it in front of Kyle’s mouth, “Say ah.”

Ike snorted.

“I’m not a child,” Kyle pouted, like an adorable bastard.

“Cool, then you won’t be a little asshole and you’ll eat the food without complaint.”

“You’re the asshole…” Kyle grumbled, but finally obediently ate the offered morsel.

“And proud of it.” Kenny got some fried rice for himself before picking up some for Kyle, who stared at the offending food with horror, “Don’t like rice?”

“No, but--you just put those in your mouth.”

Oh my god, a germaphobe. “You know, in Japan they’d call it an indirect kiss.”

Kyle’s eyebrows knit together, “That’s dumb. Japan is dumb.”

Kenny ate the rice before it hung too long, “Well, I ain’t gonna alternate between two pairs of chopsticks so either you learn to be dumb or I’m going to eat all of it and leave you to starve.

Kyle accepted the next bite with some pink darkening his cheeks.

“You guys are gross and this was less funny than I was hoping.” Ike grumbled, retrieving a plastic fork from the bag and handing it to his mortified brother, “I can’t watch this mushy shit anymore.”

Kenny didn’t admit he was kind of disappointed. Instead he retreated back to his own food and tried not to look at Kyle the rest of the time. Which was pretty easy because Kyle was avoiding looking at him as well.

\---

True to his word, Kenny stayed in the hospital room until Kyle was released. The charges ended up getting dropped as well, which was due to a mixture of his mother’s persistence in asking uncomfortable questions and his actions leading to a large drug bust.

The police weren’t _happy_ with it but their lawyer was one of his father's old friends and apparently had a bit of weight to throw around.

Kyle did not enjoy the thought that his freedom was partially due to some shitty bastard he’d never met but it was at least a relief to know he wasn’t going to have a criminal record.

Kenny left with Karen and Kevin the morning he was released, the large truck only driving off after it was confirmed Kyle was buckled in with his own family.

He’d barely seen his mom the entire rest of the time he’d been hospitalized. It seemed she’d found a new cause and every time she mentioned it, he had to suppress the urge to flinch.

“--it’s those _vigilantes_!” She crowed as they drove, “Putting strange ideas into my bubbie’s head and causing all those terrible people to crop up! If it weren’t for them, you would have never gotten shot!”

She wasn’t _entirely_ wrong about that but not the way she was thinking. Kyle sighed and tried not to feel his arm.

He’d just about regained movement in it but it still caused extreme discomfort. The pill bottle the doctors sent him away with reminded him of crates and white powder and the nightmare of his life.

It made him sick to his stomach.

He could see the McCormick truck just ahead of them. It caught him by surprise until he realized _of course_ they were heading the same direction.

He tuned out his moms ranting as he tried to catch sight of the passengers through crappy windows. It didn’t really look like the truck had been washed anytime this century and it made the windows nearly impossible to see through.

He wasn’t entirely positive how many of his interactions with Kenny had actually happened and how many were a morphine fueled fever dream, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to know either, so instead of asking Ike for confirmation he tried to avoid thinking about the whole thing altogether.

The trouble was it was all he could think about.

There were parts he was sure about but there were other parts he hoped to _god_ hadn’t actually happened. Or maybe he hoped they did.

Ike kicked his chair subtly and Kyle looked back.

Anyone without siblings would probably tell you that there is a distinct secret language between siblings. It’s rarely noticed among the parties themselves but nonverbal gestures can be far more informative than even words sometimes.

So when Ike pointed up, rolled his eyes, and then made a sliding motion with his right hand, Kyle nodded firmly. Because of course his younger brother was telling him they should talk about important stuff once they got home.

This was why as soon as they had parked, Kyle let out a not _too_ fake sounding yawn and asked if he could retreat to his room.

Sheila only fussed over him a little before letting him go up, Ike following behind at a short distance.

“We couldn’t really talk in the hospital room because of your boyfriend,” Kyle had given up protesting the labeling, it only encouraged Ike, “But there’s a _lot_ of shit you need to know.”

“Like what?”

“Like the _Princess_ showed up at your school.”

Kyle was grateful he didn’t have anything to drop, instead nearly dropped himself as he entered his room with Ike trailing behind, “ _What_?” Kyle wracked his brain, “While Kenny was in my room?”

Ike shook his head, “Before. And get this, I talked to Stan and David about it and neither of them saw Kenny the rest of the day when she showed up.”

Kyle say heavily on his bed, brain trying to catch up, “Seriously? I’d just started to think that…”

Ike sat in his chair, “Thought what?”

“Maybe Kenny was actually Mysterion?” It sounded embarrassing now.

Ike shrugged, spinning half heartedly towards the computer, “He could be both.”

Kyle shook his head, “That wouldn’t make any sense. Why create a whole new superhero persona when he already has one? Also, Princess can very clearly take on those shitty monsters but Mysterion was pretty much unable to do anything against them.”

“Why did you think he was Mysterion, anyway?”

“Karen said something…” He thought about it, Karen had just experienced some pretty heavy trauma at the time, perhaps she had been mistaken? “I don’t know. It’s silly.”

He’d revisit the issue.

“Okay, but the whole Princess thing is more of a side note. Shit has been going down, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak were arrested and now their son is in a foster home.”

Oh shit, he hadn’t thought about Tweek at all.

“That Dougie kid you told me about is missing too. He’s been missing since that entire thing came down apparently but he’s only now cropping up in the news. Apparently he’d been sending his parents messages to ‘not worry’ but they stopped abruptly.”

“Shit.”

“And Eric Cartman has the entire town blaming vigilantes for all of it. He’s been using Mom as well and I would seriously advise you stay out of the super suit until shit calms down. Popular opinion is _not_ on your side right now.”

Kyle nodded despite having no intention to listening to the advice, “Okay, is there anything happening that _isn’t_ completely awful?”

Ike shrugged, “Tricia Tucker punched Firkle in the nose and got suspended.”

“How is that good news?”

“Firkle’s a tool.” Ike said. “And Tricia is hardcore.”

“I thought you guys were friends?”

“ _Were_ is the operative word here.” Ike crossed his arms unhappily, “He’s a tool.”

“You’ve said.” Keeping track of his brother’s turbulent friendships wasn’t going to help matters, “Did you find out anything on Butters Stotch?”

“...No.” Ike looked troubled, “He’s not missing, or at least his parents haven’t reported him missing, but the last time anyone’s seen him so far as I can tell was the hospital.” Ike paused contemplatively, “Kenny seemed pretty chummy with them, huh?”

Kyle remembered the scene, if that was chummy he would eat his foot, “Apparently Stan and them were all pals before we moved here.”

“Weird.” It was a short statement but it held so much of the sentiment that Kyle agreed heartily with.

He couldn’t imagine the friendship between the four. He also struggled to wonder if they were even friends at all if Cartman’s first words to the guy after seeing him again were along the lines of ‘you’re a poor slut’.

This _was_ Cartman though. And Kenny could clearly dish it and take it, so maybe they were those sort of friends?

“Okay,” Kyle refocused on the task at hand. “Okay,” he repeated, trying to find what focus even felt like, “We need to find a way to connect Cartman to his crimes.”

“Too late. Cartman’s already _done_ that but in a way that places him as a unwilling participant. You should _see_ his interviews, it’s sickening, but he makes a convincing victim.”

“...I _really_ hate that guy.”

“Really.” Ike monotoned, “Never caught that.”

“Fuck off. Fine, next best fish. We need to figure out who Mitch Conner is.”

“Who?”

Kyle explained the interaction he had with the officer when they were arrested, including as much detail as he could recall.

They both pulled up to the computer and began to look for information. It was going to be a long day.

\---

“How did you get holes in it _already_?” Kevin admonished, sewing in a patch absently. Karen was busying herself with embroidering a star onto the patch for the hood.

“I’m just talented like that.” Kenny had his own craft in hand, which comprised of sewing in some more padding for Mysterion’s suit. Anything that helped to soften blows a bit was appreciated.

Apparently both his siblings had already found him out, which was at least three levels of disappointing, he thought he’d been so sneaky. But at the very least Kenny felt pretty comfortable doing this out in the open space of the living room, so that was a bonus.

Their parents wandered by once or twice but didn’t pay any notice to the actual work going on.

“He just wanted to get cute patches sewn on.” Karen said, “Trying to force you to work yourself to death, Kev.”

“He’s a gremlin.” Kevin said.

“A gremlin.” Karen agreed.

“A gremlin princess.” Kenny added.

“Shush, gremlin.” Karen prodded him with her foot.

There was hesitant knock at the front door and Kenny instinctively shoved his costume under the couch, nearly stabbing himself his needle in the process.

“Who could that be…” Karen gave the door a _look_.

They didn’t really get visitors. Ever. Even friends would usually only be seen at the other person's house, it wasn’t a friendly doorstep to come up to.

A knock was somehow deeply suspicious.

“I’ll get it.” Kenny stood before his siblings had a chance to, he ignored Kevin’s disapproving frown.

If he was opening the door to a gun to the face, at least he’d survive it.

Still, he only cautiously opened the door a crack. An attempt to spy future threats before danger would be inevidtably crammed down his throat.

Oh.

Kenny opened the door more, but still cautiously, staring into the empty smile of his old friend.

Butters was alone, hopefully, but Kenny edged out of the house without a word to his siblings, shutting the door behind him.

Unhinged Butters was not a person he wanted near his siblings.

“Hiya, Kenny.” Butters greeted cheerfully but it still never met his visible eye, “I was wonderin’ if you’d like to talk since you’re back in town and all.”

“Sure.”

He started walking, letting Butters take the hint to follow after him. He wanted the guy as far away from his home and siblings as possible.

This was the guy who kidnapped Karen.

It was still hard to believe and harder to connect.

He wanted to be wrong really bad.

Butters fell into step next to him, hands clasped behind his back, “When did ya get back, Kenny?”

“Pretty recently.” It wasn’t a total lie, “What’s new with you, Leo?”

Something _gleamed_ in Butters and he pulled something from a satchel he had, “I found truth.”

Kenny accepted the pamphlet and couldn’t help but stare openly.

A lot of what he could read immediately he’d heard echoed on a school intercom. It nearly brought him back to that moment in time. _Chaos_ , _anarchy_ , _freedom_. Buzzwords lifted directly from a deranged speech.

Fear threatened the corners of his emotions. What was Butters trying to say by giving him this? Was this a way of saying he’d recognized him as Mysterion?

“I heard you talkin’ about anarchy and whatnot with Eric the other day and I thought, _golly_ there’s a guy who would be interested in learnin’ more!”

Holy crap he was being recruited for the Chaos cult.

“Looks interesting.” Kenny said weakly, folding the pamphlet weakly to put in his pants pocket, “You a member?”

Butters hummed an unfamiliar melody, “You could say that.”

He’d really wanted to be wrong about Butters.

“That’s cool.”

He let Butters continue his sales pitch, mentally comparing it to the one he’d heard during the school lockdown and not enjoying what he found. It was a good opportunity, actually. If he pretended to be a party interested in joining, he could probably get the information he needed to take down the entire organization.

There was the part of him that felt hesitant to to do so, reminding him painfully of the times he _did_ feel like friends with Butters. Unpleasant implications dancing in his mind.

What it would mean to abuse Butters blind trust in him like that.

Butters wasn’t a terrible person or a terrible friend. He’d always been a complicated one.

“Don’cha agree, Kenny? There’s so much wrong in the world.”

He was on Kenny’s side so long as they were alone. But in a crowd of people, Kenny had never been particularly popular and Butters was swayed by popular belief.

If a mob demanded Kenny’s head on a pike, Butters would help lead the march.

“There is no real freedom inside of oppression.”

But if Kenny was alone and sad, Butters was full of words to comfort.

It made the entire thing complicated.

“It’s an opportunity to escape the shackles binding you.”

He gave a very noncommitted answer to the pitch when Butters wound down and made an excuse to say goodbye.

His shoulders sagged in a sad way at Kenny’s words and he almost wanted to retract them. He didn’t want to make Butters sad but--

He waved goodbye.

There was just too much _but_ and he’d have to think about it all. He meandered back in the direction of his home, displeased with the distance he’d accidentally created.

 _But_ was such a potent word in his life nowadays.

He was done with being a Princess _but_ \--

He wanted to reconnect with his childhood friends again _but_ \--

He had a thing for Kite _but_ \--

He had a thing for Kyle _but_ \--

He wanted to make the town safe again _but_ \--

It was seemingly endless.

Wanting something wasn’t enough, hoping for the best wasn’t enough, giving it his all wasn’t enough. There were complications he couldn’t hope to overcome with just blind optimism.

_“You’ll think about it, right?”_

Butters sounded desperate for him to do so, the implication lain that maybe, just maybe, the desire to reconnect was mutual.

Maybe his friend wasn’t so lost they couldn’t find common ground again.

The thought turned bitterly in his stomach. It wasn’t like Butters had changed, just the other day he was up to his same old shit.

It wasn’t like Butters was doing good things, he’d endangered his baby sisters life. Had Kenny himself tossed off a roof.

The truth was Kenny wanted to jump at the opportunity, see if he could talk his old friend out of this _insanity_.

The truth was Kenny was too hurt to even want to try.

He chanced a look at the Broflovski house as he passed it by.

No sign of danger, should be a relief, but Kenny half wished there was so he had a proper excuse to crawl in his window. The thought melted away spidery tension inside him.

Sit on Kyle’s bed and talk about nothing in particular.

Or save the day and sweep him off his feet.

His hand twitched and he shoved it in his pocket.

The scratchy cotton had nothing on the warmth of a human hand. Even worse the pamphlet waited to remind him of everything awful.

Dammit.

Maybe he’d patrol tonight. He needed to figure shit out with Kite anyway, now that he knew who Chaos was it was probably well past the time he should start trying to actually work as a team with Mr. Actually Has Superpowers.

And, if nothing else, he could do some recon around the Stotch house.

\---

He figured he was going to either come home to or wake up to Ike’s most disapproving of expressions, but he still snuck out his window clad in green spandex.

He just needed to avoid ripping his stitches and everything would be _fine_. But for now he’d need to find where Mysterion was picking garbage or whatever it was the guy did.

Did Mysterion even notice or care that he’d been gone?

He felt dismayed Kenny wasn’t actually Mysterion. Or at the very least, the chances had gone down significantly. Despite the mortification he would have endured, he was more or less becoming accustomed to the idea. If Kenny was Mysterion then it kept things pretty neat in a lot of ways.

It also meant that Kenny didn’t at any point have a crush on Mysterion and it was all a clever ruse, which again, would be mortifying, but also relieving.

It didn’t make sense for Kenny to be _two_ different heroes at once though. And the chance of Princess disappearing in Tokyo only to reappear here at the same time Kenny moved… it was too much a coincidence to ignore.

He wasn’t going to jump to any conclusions though. When he’d done so with Kevin it had been _disastrous_.

Kite flew with only one hand on his actual kite, letting the wind pull him to its whims.

Flight was worth it. It was what he’d needed. It was the best part of being Kite.

Even when he’d noticed it was possible for him, training with Ike in secret, it wasn’t like he could really _do_ anything about it other than float uselessly in his room.

But this was the freedom of the sky about and the problems on the ground below were distant.

They couldn’t reach him. No one could sneak up on him here. No one could--

Kite refocused on the task at hand.

So far he hadn’t seen any signs of a dark cowl. He dropped down onto a rooftop in the bad part of town and looked up to the stars adorning the sky.

The illusion of freedom was gone with his feet on the ground. The grim knowledge he couldn’t and wouldn’t run to easy answers in the clouds.

There were too many problems to consider.

He’d missed almost a full week of school. So had Ike and Kenny, though Ike had at least gone to some classes at their mother's insistence.

He’d have to return to it tomorrow.

What would he do if Cartman was there? Knowing that Kyle hadn’t been able to pin anything on him? Smiling smugly as he continued to spread his nightmarish propaganda?

Kite clenched his good fist. There wasn’t anything he really _could_ do, not in his current condition.

“Where the fuck is Mysterion…”

“What do you need?”

Kite damn near fell off the roof.

“ _Holy fuck_ , how long have you been there?!”

Mysterion smirked before sitting on the ledge next to him, not answering the question at all.

Right. _That_ was why Mysterion pissed him off. He’d almost forgotten.

“Well?” Mysterion the giant asshole prompted.

Kite held back his agitation, there were more important matters at hand, “I think it’s time we start working together.”

“I thought you were against that.”

“I was. I’m not anymore. Can we move on?” Kite snipped. The old disquiet about knowing _nothing_ about Mysterion rising again. Twice now he’d thought he knew _for sure_ and still he was alluded.

It wasn’t really fair.

“We can.” Mysterion said, “I’ve been thinking the same. There are too many elements at play and by working independently we increase the risk of stepping on each others toes.”

Why couldn’t Mysterion be more of the dark loner asshole type? Give Kite something to be angry about? Why did he have to have assessed the matter _maturely_ , it made Kite feel stupid for shooting down the notion earlier.

All over some petty preconceptions.

“Right.” Kite said tightly, “I know who Chaos is.”

He didn’t think he could surprise Mysterion. He felt immense satisfaction at the expression.

Mysterion nodded, “I know where he’ll be.”

...Bastard always had to one-up him.

Mysterion pulled out what looked like a pamphlet and presented it to Kite for perusal. He didn’t need look further than the bold declarations of anarchy to make the connection.

“It says they meet Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays at four pm in the community center. I’m considering sending someone in undercover to get information.”

Kite shot him a look, “Why don’t you just go yourself?”

Mysterion sighed, “It _says_ all ages welcome but if you look at where these have been distributed around town, it’s clearly aiming for a younger demographic. High school or younger. My guess is they want people at their most impressionable.”

“You don’t think you could pull off pretending to be a teenager?”

“I could _try_.” Mysterion said, “But it would look like one of those chick flicks that came out in the eighties with a very obviously adult cast trying to look hip. Not a great look.”

“How old _are_ you?” Kite asked.

“See, not answering questions like that is how a secret identity is maintained.”

If Kite didn’t know better he’d say the guy was teasing him. He didn’t know better. Mysterion was totally teasing him. Jerk.

“You say that like you’ve figured mine out.” Kite felt apprehension at the matter, Mysterion _had_ visited Kyle not that long ago seemingly out of the blue. Shit. Was he that obvious?

“No.” Kite restrained a heaving sigh of relief, “I haven’t been trying to. What would be the point? If I learned your identity it only increases the risk of making a mistake and accidentally endangering you and your family.”

Shit. Kite hadn’t thought about that at all. The shame of his intentions bubbled in his stomach To top it off the both of them had some pretty shitty enemies at this point. He’d already learned what happened when he showed even a hint of his intents as Kyle.

Ike had been endangered, Kenny had thrown himself into danger protecting him, his mom was on the warpath.

“Right.” Kite caught up, “Wouldn’t the person you sent in be in danger though?”

“Not to worry. The person I’m thinking of couldn’t die if you killed them.”

There was a hint of dark humor to his voice and Kite had the distinct impression there was a joke in there he wasn’t privy to.

“You haven’t asked about Chaos’ identity, did you figure it out as well?”

“Hmm. I have a pretty good idea.” Mysterion sighed, slumping his shoulders, “The best way to take him down would be to obtain some evidence about his identity and make it known to the public. The police would be forced to take him into custody despite their corrupt core.”

How much did Mysterion already know about the police situation?

“You don’t sound like you want to.”

Mysterion rested his elbows on his knees and looked at the city below, “He’s a confused and broken kid. Neither inherently good or evil, just the epitome of extreme. I think he needs professional help, not jail-time.”

“You know him?”

Mysterion’s mouth formed a tight line.

“No. Not really. I just know about him.”

They sat in silence for awhile, an easy answer to a problem they needed to solve in their laps and yet…

Kite couldn’t help but understand the conflicted feelings on the matter, Stan’s broken description of the boy still haunted him.

“He’s not a child.” Mysterion said finally, “He committed crime, hurt people, tried to _kill_ people, whether or not he understood the despicability of his actions, he needs to be taken off the streets before he hurts anyone else.”

There it was again. That special way Mysterion put the safety of the city above all else.

Kite wasn’t sure he agreed with it but he couldn’t help respecting it. The gutters below were full of monsters and demons, the law enforcement were lining their pockets and their prejudices, passionate people like his mother were being used to cover up larger issues through activism.

The future offered nothing but bleak prospects.

It was such a shitty fucking town and all he wanted was to return to Jersey where the worst he had to worry about was getting into a fight because he ran his mouth too far.

But Mysterion _loved_ this town.

It was in his eyes as he looked down at the same streets.

Kite brought his knees to his chin and rested it there. There was a homeless man below, minding his own business, trying to make himself comfortable for the night.

These horrible streets. This horrible town. Demons and human intermingling without a method of differentiation.

The homeless man was surrounded by garbage Mysteiron hadn’t cleaned up.

No one cleaned these streets apparently. No one cared. Just demons haunting footsteps and _sounds_ echoing over and over like a gravelled old voice reluctantly offering assistance.

The world continued to spin no matter who was taken or how and it took no prisoners. This horrible, _horrible_ town with _demons_.

Why couldn’t anyone see the _demons_.

Taking and taking and taking without a care for who was hurt so long as it aligned with a nauseating purpose.

Disgusting. _Disgusting_. And the old man below tried to sleep like this world wasn’t horrible. A fool. He was a fool.

Mysterion was a fool. Loving a city like this.

Twisted and terrible, _garbage_ , they were all _garbage_ and there was no cleaning this. Like the blood stains painted on his face by a memory too vivid. The taste of a life _ended_ and the _pain_ he couldn’t control.

Why.

Why.

 _Why_.

He’d get them. He’d get them all. Every last monster and demon parading around as human with nothing but dark intentions and selfish-- _so selfish_.

The old man stirred below but it was only a matter of time before _some dumb kid_ got him killed because he was in over his head.

He was in over his head and the monsters were going to _win_.

He was alone and trapped, bleeding and dying and there was no escape.

No escape, no escape, no escape, no escape.

Just blood.

Just death.

Just _murder_.

He squeezed his legs to him.

“What’s wrong?”

Kite didn’t look away from the homeless man, the taste of blond on his tongue, “Nothing.”

“Your hyperventilating. Kite--Kite look at me.”

Gloved hands pulled Kite’s away from the man and into the impossibly blue eyes of his partner.

“Breathe with me.” His growl even sounded softer than normal. Kite matched his breath, only realizing now how uneven his own breath had become.

“It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

He was alone. He was alone and begging for help and it had a _cost_.

“Breathe. Follow my breathing.”

Would Mysterion be the next cost? Kenny? Ike? His mom?

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He should have died there instead of forcing-- _demanding_ \--there were _demons_ in that horrible town and he wanted to burn them all but they kept _winning_ and winning and winning and winn--

Kite gasped, Mysterion had pulled him into a powerful hug and unknowingly put pressure on his stitches. The pain and motion was enough to pull him from the panic, if only momentarily.

“I’m sorry.” Mysterion murmured, “I lied. I don’t know if it’s okay. I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t know how we can fix it.” He held on tighter and the pain kept him grounded, “But I’m here and I’ll do whatever I can.”

Kite nodded weakly, mostly to get Mysterion to let go and hopefully relieve the pressure from his healing shoulder.

Mysterion backed up, just enough to look him in the eyes and Kite felt the intensity of it.

He meant it. He’d never before seen such an intense promise in a person’s eyes but there was no denying Mysterion meant every word.

“Are you okay now?”

Kite nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.

“Okay.”

Mysterion squeezed his shoulder, the good one _thankfully_ , in a reassuring way, “I’m here if you need me, kid.”

They sat in silence for awhile longer before Kite finally found his voice again.

“Do you know anything about Mitch Conner?”


End file.
